JNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA   SAN  DIEGO 


3  182201961  1672 


LIBRARY 

UMTVWMffV  Of 
SAN  DIEGO 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA      AN  DIEGO 


3  182201961  1672 


NINE   YEARS 

* 


AMONG  THE  CONVICTS: 


PRISON    REMINISCENCES. 

BY    ELEAZER   SMITH, 

LATE  CHAPLAIN  OF  THE  HEW  HAMPSHIRE  STATE  PRISON. 


BOSTON: 
FOR  SALE  BY  J.  P.  MAGEE,  5   CORNHILL. 

CONCORD,  N.  H. :  MERRILL  &  MERRIAM. 

AND  BY  THE  AUTHOR. 

1856. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1856, 

BY  ELEAZER  SMITH, 
In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  for  the  District  of  Massachusetts. 


CEO.   C.  IlASl)   &  AVKKY,  I'ltlXTEKS,  3   CuKMIILL,  UOSTOK 


• 


CONTENTS 


PAGE 

Chapter  I.  Prison  History, .  9 

n.  State  Prison  Statistics, 19 

HI.  Candidates  for  the  Penitentiary, 33 

IV.  Picture  of  Prison  Life, 48 

V.  Catholic  Convicts, 68 

VI.  State  Prison  Eeligion,       ...  ...    72 

VH.  Sketch  of  Thomas  Carr, 86 

VTO.  Hicks,  the  Burglar, 92 

IX.  The  Gipsey  Family, 106 

X.  The  Railroad  Robber, 116 

XI.  The  Penitent  Murderer, 128 

XH.  Martin  Schlegel, 150 

XIH.  Parker  Paul, 175 

XIV.  The  Roman, 191 

XV.  Maitland, 195 

XVI.  Bible  Influence, 199 

XVII.  Anecdotes, 205 

XVIII.  Executive  Pardons, 213 

XIX.  Discharged  Convicts, 220 

XX.  The  Convict's  Funeral, 228 

XXI.  The  Convicts'  Burial  Ground, 234 

XXH.  Prison  Discipline 244 

XXIII.  Farewell  Sermon, 263 


PREFACE. 


DURING  my  Chaplaincy  I  endeavored  to  acquaint  myself 
with  the  history  of  each  individual  under  my  charge,  and 
to  mark  the  various  incidents  that  might  be  supposed  to  have 
aided  in  the  formation  of  his  character.  And  this  I  found  it 
easy  to  do,  as  the  convicts  -were  not  allowed  to  converse  with 
any  other  person,  except  in  the  few  words  necessary  to  carry 
on  their  work,  or  an  occasional  conversation  with  the  Warden 
or  Deputy. 

There  are  few  persons  in  whom  "  secretiveness"  is  so  largely 
developed  as  not  to  wish  to  divulge  to  some  one.  Shut  up 
alone  in  silence,  pondering  over  their  life  hour  after  hour,  they 
long  to  speak ;  their  secrets  become  painful  and  hard  to  keep, 
and  the  pleasant  countenance  and  kind  manners  of  a  Chaplain 
will  call  them  out.  Of  hundreds  I  have  associated  with  as 
pastor,  few,  very  few,  seemed  to  hesitate  to  speak  freely  of 
their  past  history,  and  I  think  most  of  them  truthfully. 

Of  course  I  shall  not  betray  the  confidence  thus  reposed  in 
me,  by  spreading  upon  the  pages  of  this  book  the  history  of 
these  men,  to  their  injury,  or  to  the  shame  or  grief  of  their 
relatives.  It  has  been  my  object  in  writing  these  pages, 

1st.  To  write  only  what  I  believe  true.  I  could  have  intro- 
duced hundreds  of  pages  of  a  most  marvellous  character, 
strange  events,  "  moving  accidents  by  field  or  flood,"  and  ac- 
counts of  things  most  wonderful,  and  these  possibly,  and 
1* 


VI  PEEFACE. 

perhaps  probably  true.  But  I  choose  to  note  only  such  as  in 
my  judgment  are  sustained  by  sufficient  evidence. 

2d.  I  have  written  nothing  that  I  think  -will  afflict  the  living, 
either  "  in  body,  mind,  or  estate."  To  have  done  this  (though 
it  might  give  much  interest  to  the  book.,)  would  have  been  an 
unpardonable  breach  of  confidence,  and  I  should  deserve  the 
reproach  of  all  good  men.  And  to  say  nothing  of  other  con- 
siderations, the  love  I  bear  my  quondam  parishioners  would  be 
sufficient  to  restrain  me. 

3d.  I  have  spoken  sparingly  of  revolting  crimes.  Let  no 
one  on  taking  up  this  book  expect  to  find  "  The  Thieves'  Direc- 
tory," or  "  The  Best  Methods  of  Committing  Burglary,"  or 
the  "  Robber's  Own  Book."  I  could,  no  doubt,  write  a  large 
volume  that  would  "  sell  well"  and  be  read  by  multitudes  with 
avidity.  From  the  history  of  so  many  hundreds  I  could  furnish 
most  thrilling  accounts  of  thefts,  robberies,  and  all  the  terrible 
catalogue  of  crime,  creating  a  wild  excitement  in  the  young 
mind  and  gratifying  curiosity  to  the  utmost. 

But  I  know  that  such  a  book,  while  it  would  bring  cash  to 
the  author,  would  bring  mischief  to  the  reader.  Such  records 
of  guilt  must  not  be  made.  The  reader  might  perhaps  at  first 
be  shocked  and  in  his  heart  detest  crime,  but  a  familiarity,  as 
all  will  allow,  soon  injures  the  moral  sense  : 

"  For  seen  too  oft  —  familiar  with  its  face, 
We  first  endure  —  then  pity — then  embrace." 

"  Will  you  be  so  kind  as  to  get  me  the  Pirates'  Book  ?  "  said 
a  very  wicked  young  man,  who  had  just  been  committed.  "  I 
love  to  read  it."  And  he  thought  it  strange  when  I  informed 
him  that  I  could  not  allow  such  a  book  in  the  library,  or  in  the 
hand  of  a  prisoner.  "  Please  get  me  a  book  about  murders 
and  highway  robbers,"  has  been  the  request  of  many  of  our 


P  E  E  F  A  C  E .  Vll 

young  men,  evincing  a  passionate  desire  for  such  books  ;  and 
these  requests  came  from  those  who,  though  young  in  years, 
were  old  in  crime. 

And  did  book-makers  and  book-venders  but  realize  the  de- 
moralizing influence  of  such  works,  they  would,  as  friends  of 
virtue,  throw  no  more  of  them  out  into  community  to  corrupt 
the  hearts  and  morals  of  the  young. 

4th.  I  have  sought  to  publish  only  that  which  shall  subserve 
the  cause  of  sound  morals  and  true  religion.  I  have  endeavored 
to  make  every  page  illustrate  the  great  Scripture  doctrine  that 
"  Wisdom's  ways  are  pleasantness,  and  all  her  paths  are  peace  ;" 
that  "  the  way  of  the  transgressor  is  hard,"  and  that  though 
justice  may  not  soon  overtake  or  speedily  punish,  yet  that 
habits  are  forming  by  the  lawless  which  will  be  ruinous,  unfit- 
ing  the  soul  trained  to  wickedness  for  its  high  destination  to 
"  glorify  God  and  enjoy  him  forever." 

I  indulge  the  hope  that  the  suggestions  respecting  the 
proper  treatment  of  the  guilty,  whether  under  arrest,  on 
trial,  as  inmates  of  the  penitentiary,  or  discharged  and  at 
liberty,  may  be  of  use  ;  and  that  a  spirit  of  vigilant  kindness 
may  be  promoted  in  our  communities,  which  the  poor  despond- 
ing sinner 

"  Seeing,  may  take  heart  again." 

Much  has  been  said,  and  something  has  been  done  to  im- 
prove prison  discipline ;  and  though  there  is  much  of  ignorance 
yet  pervading  the  public  mind  on  this  subject,  and  though  the 
happy  medium  between  the  opposite  extremes  of  remissness 
and  severity  is  not  yet  clearly  understood,  yet  we  have  reason 
to  rejoice  in  the  great  advancement  already  made. 

And  if  this  unpretending  volume  should  in  any  case  promote 
a  love  for  the  spiritual  welfare  of  the  convicts  —  if  it  should 


viii  p  E  E  P  A  c  E  . 

direct  attention  and  enkindle  prayer  for  our  fellow  sinners,  and 
in  any  degree  enlist  the  aid  of  religious  people  in  the  salvation 
of  these  outcasts,  then  will  I  be  thankful.  I  shall  have  done 
something  to  promote  a  work  that  shall  remain  when  "  the 
earth  and  all  the  works  therein  shall  be  burned  up." 

"  The  sun  is  but  a  spark  of  fire, 
A  transient  meteor  in  the  sky ; 
The  soul,  immortal  as  its  sire, 
Shall  never  die." 


PRISON  REMINISCENCES. 


CHAPTER    I. 

PRISON    HISTORY. 

THE  New  Hampshire  State  Prison  was  first 
opened  for  the  reception  of  convicts,  in  1812.  Its 
first  occupant  was  one  Drew,  who,  for  several 
months,  was  the  sole  tenant  of  that  large  but 
gloomy  hall.  The  first  man.  But  what  a  sad 
train  have  followed,  and  will  follow. 

The  Institution  has,  in  its  general  management, 
been  perhaps  as  successful  as  any  one  of  the  class  in 
our  country.  Cases  of  mismanagement  have,  no 
doubt,  occurred;  but,  on  the  whole,  the  State  has 
been  fortunate  in  the  selection  of  its  chief  officer  — 
the  Warden.  This  has  been  the  case,  without  ex- 
ception, for  the  last  twelve  years ;  beyond  which  time 
I  have  no  sufficient  grounds  for  forming  an  enlight* 
ened  judgment.*  This  success  has  not,  however, 
resulted  from  the  natural  working  of  the  New 
Hampshire  method  of  doing  the  thing.  It  is  sur- 


10  PRISON   REMINISCENCES. 

prising  that  the  people  of  this  State,  famed  for 
intelligence  and  shrewdness — and  especially  in 
that  which  lies  so  near  their  hearts  as  money  —  do 
not  disconnect  their  prison  management  from  polit- 
ical partizanship.  There  is  an  annual  election  of 
"Warden,  and,  consequently,  of  all  the  officers  con- 
nected with  the  prison.  The  Warden  may  have 
been  an  officer  of  great  merit,  with  the  experience 
of  years.  The  affairs  of  the  prison  may  have  been 
managed  with  the  most  entire  success.  But  that 
success  will  make  capital  for  his  party.  There 
is  an  incentive  to  originate  and  circulate  scandalous 
reports,  for  political  effect.  Disappointed  or  aspir- 
ing men,  or  political  enemies,  are  interested  in 
this  ;  and  besides  other  and  greater  evils,  commit- 
tees are  sometimes  needlessly  appointed,  and  the 
time  of  the  Legislature  needlessly  taken  up,  in  ex- 
amining into  alleged  abuses, —  and  all  to  no  profit, 
but  at  great  expense. 

On  the  other  hand,  is  the  management  bad,  the 
party  by  whom  the  appointment  was  made  have 
great  inducement  to  conceal  it.  It  will  injure  any 
party  if  known.  He  is  our  man,  and  must  be  sus- 
tained, though  possessed  of  not  a  single  qualifica- 
tion requisite  for  the  office.  Why  do  not  the  men 
of  our  State  who  hire  laborers,  select  only  those  of 
their  own  political  faith.  A  Whig  employer  should 


PRISON   HISTORY.  11 

hire  a  Whig  employee ;  a  Democratic  employer  a 
Democrat,  and  a  Free  Soiler  look  well  to  it  that 
the  man  who  cultivates  his  potatoes,  is  sound  on 
the  Nebraska  question. 

And  though  the  men  thus  engaged  are  both  idle 
and  vicious,  it  is  enough  that  he  is  of  our  party, 
and  must  be  kept  in  office,  in  preference  to  an  hon- 
est and  industrious  servant  of  another  political 
faith.  In  such  a  case,  a  man  would  speedily  earn 
the  reputation  of  a  fool  ;  I  speak  as  to  wise  men, 
charging  no  party,  exonerating  no  party,  nor  hav- 
ing allusion  so  much  to  what  has  happened,  as  to 
what  may,  and  will  be  likely  to,  from  the  legiti- 
mate operation  of  our  present  system.  There  is 
considerable  human  natur,  as  the  renowned  Sam 
Slick  would  phrase  it,  in  all  parties ;  and  its  devel- 
opments are  marvellously  alike  in  Democrat,  Whig, 
Free  Soil,  and  all  other  parties. 

Could  an  individual  of  very  humble  attainments 
and  pretensions  advise  the  "  wisdom  of  the  Gen- 
eral Court  convened,"  he  would  say,  Find  that 
rare  man  who  possesses  the  ability  to  balance  and 
adjust  all  the  separate  and  conflicting  interests  con- 
nected with  the  prison  —  who  with  a  vigilant  eye 
and  an  impartial  hand,  will  manage  well  for  the 
State,  the  contractor,  and  the  prisoner  —  the  man 
of  gentlemanly  deportment  and  condescending  man- 


12  PRISON    REMINISCENCES. 

ners,  combining  the  qualities  of  firmness  and 
kindness,  and  cooperating  in  all  the  suitable  efforts 
to  reform  and  instruct  the  convicts.  Let  such  an 
one  be  found,  elected  and  sustained.  Let  him 
know  that  he  is  under  no  obligation  to  any  party, 
that  his  success  depends  on  a  faithful  attention  to 
his  business,  and  not  on  the  amount  of  service  ren- 
dered his  political  friends ;  and  all  improper  influ- 
ences will  be  removed,  leaving  the  office  free  from 
all  other  influence  or  inducement  than  such  as 
should  actuate  an  honest,  pure-minded  public  ser- 
vant. Let  this  be  done,  and  the  prosperity  of  the 
prison  will  be  made  sure. 

My  connection  with  the  prison  commenced  during 
the  administration  of  Samuel  G.  Berry,  Esq.,  and 
continued  through  that  of  James  Moore,  Rufus 
Dow,  and  Gideon  Webster,  Esqs.  It  would  be 
highly  improper  for  me  to  go  into  a  detailed  state- 
ment of  the  affairs  of  the  prison  during  their 
several  administrations ;  but  it  gives  me  pleasure 
to  express  my  opinion,  that  all  of  them  were  faith- 
ful public  servants ;  and  taking  into  account  busi- 
ness embarrassments  of  some  portions  of  the  time, 
all  succeeded  well.  A  desire  to  benefit  the  con- 
vict, manifested  itself  in  a  cooperation  with  the 
Chaplain  in  his  efforts  ;  and  the  discharged  convict, 
to  this  day  finds  the  friendship  and  aid  of  these 


PRISON   HISTORY.  13 

men  worth  seeking.  My  personal  acquaintance 
with  these  officers  was  of  a  pleasant  character,  and 
is  often  a  source  of  pleasure  in  the  retrospect. 

Of  the  efforts  to  improve  the  intellectual  and 
moral  condition  of  the  convicts  up  to  1830,  I  can 
give  but  little  information.  The  labors  bestowed 
were  probably  of  small  amount,  and  entirely  gra- 
tuitous. In  1830,  Rev.  Samuel  Kelly  was  stationed 
by  the  Methodist  Conference,  in  Concord,  and  en- 
gaged to  devote  a  part  of  each  Sabbath  to  preach- 
ing and  instructing  the  convicts.  This  he  contin- 
ued to  do  with  great  faithfulness  and  ability  for 
two  years.  The  preacher  at  the  Methodist  Chapel 
for  the  time  being,  officiated  in  like  manner,  and 
very  acceptably,  up  to  1840,  when  Rev.  Edmund 
Worth,  an  able  and  pious  minister  of  the  Baptist 
denomination,  was  appointed  Chaplain,  and  con- 
tinued till  1843,  when  Rev.  John  Atwood,  of  the 
same  denomination,  succeeded.  He  was  also  State 
Treasurer ;  and  for  three  years,  with  -honesty  and 
fidelity  kept  and  disbursed  the  public  treasure,  and 
gave  to  the  poor  prisoner  "his  portion  of  meat  in 
due  season."  The  writer  was  appointecj  to  suc- 
ceed him  in  part,  that  is  to  say,  the  ministerial 
part.  The  other  part  he  knew  he  could  not  get, 
and  therefore  was  most  wonderfully  content  with 
a  single  office.  To  that  he  was  re-appointed  annu- 
2 


14  PRISON    REMINISCENCES. 

ally  for  eight  additional  years,  by  Governors  Wil- 
liams, Densmore,  Martin,  and  Baker. 

The  salary  for  the  first  year  was  one  hundred 
and  fifty  dollars ;  after  that,  two  hundred  dollars 
up  to  1855,  when  it  was  raised  to  three  hundred. 
How  it  came  to  pass  that  two  hundred  dollars  was 
fixed  on  as  his  salary,  is  not  known  to  the  writer ; 
but  it  is  fair  to  presume  that  our  executive  officers 
were  conversant  with  the  old  British  Poets,  and 
there  ascertained  that  the  reverend  "  pastor  of  the 
church  and  congregation "  of  "  Auburn,  loveliest 
village  of  the  plain,"  was  "  passing  rich,  with  forty 
pounds  a  year ; "  and,  further,  that  his  salary  ena- 
bled him  to  abound  in  charity,  so  that  "  his  house 
was  known  to  all  the  vagrant  train,"  and  the 
"  broken  soldier,  and  the  ruined  spendthrift,  now 
no  longer  proud,"  were  welcomed  and  relieved. 

Hence  they  very  considerately  fixed  on  that  sum, 
or  as  nearly  so  as  could  well  be  expressed  in 
American  currency.  Of  this  the  Chaplain  was  not 
disposed  to  complain,  as  but  a  small  part  of  the 
week  except  the  Sabbath  could  well  be  devoted  to 
the  improvement  of  the  convicts. 

During  the  first  two  years,  two  religious  services 
were  held  on  each  Sabbath ;  and  as  the  citizens, 
male  and  female,  were  allowed  to  attend,  the 
chapel  was  well  filled.  In  1 848,  a  Sabbath  School 


PRISON    HISTORY.  15 

was  organized,  and  held  in  place  of  one  of  the 
religious  services,  and  the  attendance  of  the  citi- 
zens prohibited,  unless  as  invited  friends  of  some 
officer  of  the  prison.  The  attendance  of  the  con- 
victs on  the  Sabbath  School,  unlike  that  of  the  reg- 
ular religious  service,  is  voluntary.  About  two- 
thirds  of  the  whole  number  have  generally  chosen 
to  attend.  Besides  some  seven  or  eight  classes 
engaged  in  the  ordinary  studies  of  the  Sabbath 
School,  there  is  the  "  infant  class,"  composed  of  men 
from  fifteen  to  fifty  years  of  age,  learning  to  read 
and  spell. 

These  classes  are  all  instructed  by  the  students 
in  the  Methodist  Biblical  Institute,  in  this  city. 
These  excellent  young  men,  actuated  by  the  noblest 
motives,  have  rendered  great  service  to  the  cause 
of  humanity  and  religion,  by  their  self-denying, 
faithful,  and  long-continued  labors,  and  richly  de- 
serve, at  least,  a  Legislative  acknowledgment. 
Very  considerable  improvement  has  been  made  in 
religious  knowledge  by  most  of  our  convicts ;  and 
the  accurate  and  critical  knowledge  of  the  Bible 
attained  to  by  many  of  them,  would  shame  the 
ignorance  of  many  a  whiskered  dandy  or  conceited 
collegian.  On  establishing  a  Sabbath  School,  I 
thought  it  necessary  to  give  the  convicts  some 
knowledge  of  Sacred  Geography,  in  order  to  a  bet- 


16  PRISON   REMINISCENCES. 

ter  understanding  of  their  lessons.  I  therefore 
provided  myself  with  a  set  of  maps  executed  by 
my  daughter,  and  assembling  the  men,  hung  them 
up.  Stick  in  hand,  a  la  lecturer,  I  commenced  my 
very  interesting  labor.  An  oppressive  conscious- 
ness of  my  want  of  the  requisite  natural  qualities, 
and  entire  lack  of  experience,  made  me  very  mod- 
est. I  had,  however,  somewhere  read  of  a  lecturer 
who,  provided  with  "  superb  representations,"  once 
lectured  oh  Sacred  History.  The  subject  intro- 
duced was,  "  Daniel  in  the  Den  of  Lions."  This 
our  lecturer  announced  in  the  most  interesting 
manner,  and  then,  in  proceeding,  said :  "  You  will 
find  no  difficulty  in  determining  which  is  Daniel, 
only  recollect  that  is  him  with  the  blue  cotton  um- 
brella under  his  arm.  All  the  rest  are  lions." 
How  much  I  profited  by  this  example,  I  ought  not 
to  judge. 

In  order  to  impress  the  minds  of  my  audience 
with  the  general  form  of  Palestine,  and  the  com- 
parative localities  of  its  most  prominent  places,  I 
compared  Palestine  with  New  Hampshire.  I  said, 
in  substance,  there  is  a  remarkable  similarity  in 
the  size  and  form.  There  is  Nazareth,  the  scene 
of  our  Lord's  early  life,  occupying  about  that  place 
on  the  map  of  Palestine  that  Sandwich  does  on  that 
of  New  Hampshire.  Jerusalem,  in  Palestine,  an- 


PRISON  HISTORY.  17 

swers  to  Concord,  and  Hebron  to  Nashua.  And 
here,  I  added,  is  Gaza,  answering  to  our  Keene. 
Now  when  you  read  of  Sampson's  visit  to  that 
place,  you  will  locate  it  on  that  part  of  Palestine 
answering  to  Keene.  Sampson,  you  know,  once 
thought  of  putting  up  there  over  night ;  but  some 
of  the  Gaza  boys  made  a  demonstration  that  con- 
vinced him  he  had  better  leave,  which  he  did  dur- 
ing the  darkness,  taking  with  him  the  gate  of  the 
city.  Whether  he  ever  returned  it,  I  do  not  know. 
Here  many  questions  were  asked.  One  inquiring 
how  large  the  gate  probably  was ;  another,  whether 
I  supposed  it  as  large  as  the  great  gate  leading  out 
of  the  prison  yard ;  another,  rather  drily  inquiring 
if  I  supposed  any  man  now  living  could  carry  off 
that,  intimating  that  "  the  thanks  of  the  meeting  " 
would  be  due  to  one  who  would  accomplish  the 
feat.  Upon  the  whole,  I  had,  as  we  sometimes  say, 
"  a  good  time,"  but  I  soon  found  that  I  had  sig- 
nally failed  to  make  myself  understood,  in  at  least 
two  cases,  as  I  will  now  proceed  to  confess. 

The  next  day  after,  one  of  the  convicts,  who 
was  known  among  us  by  the  nickname  of  "  Spright- 
ly," (so  named  because  of  his  possessing  largely 
the  opposite  qualities,)  came  to  the  Deputy,  and 
inquired,  "  Do  you  know  that  ere  feller  what  the 
Chaplain  told  on  yesterday."  What  fellow, 
2* 


18  PRISON   REMINISCENCES. 

pray  ?  "  "  Why  he  said  as  how  a  man,  I  b'lieve  a 
Methodist  preacher  over  here  to  Keene,  got  up  in 
the  night,  and  stole  a  gate,  and  carried  it  off  in 
the  night ;  and  when  he  heard  from  him  last,  he 
had  not  carried  it  back."  The  Deputy  was  sadly 
puzzled  to  understand  the  matter,  until  an  Irish- 
man, stepping  up,  explained — "Plase  ye,  Mr.  Dip- 
uty,  the  felly  is  a  fool  —  axing  your  pardon.  It  was 
Sampson  the  Chaplain  was  spaking  of,  entirely." 
"  0  !  ah !  y-e-s,"  drawlingly  responded  Sprightly ; 
"  that  was  his  name," 

Soon  after,  I  was  urging  the  importance  of  reli- 
gion on  a  man  who  had  been  brought  up  in  deplor- 
able ignorance,  a  foreigner  by  birth.  I  spoke  to 
him  of  Jesus,  and  the  necessity  of  knowing  and 
loving  him.  He  listened  to  my  remarks  with  be- 
coming seriousness,  and  when  I  paused,  with  evi- 
dent honesty  observed,  "  I  think  you  told  us  last 
Sabbath,  that  he  was  born  up  in  Sandwich,  in  this 
State. 

Another  illustration  of  the  truth  of  the  remark 
made  by  the  great  poet  of  Scotland,  respecting  the 
failure  of  "  the  best  designs  of  mice  and  men." 


STATE   PRISON    STATISTICS.  19 


CHAPTER  II. 

STATE    PRISON    STATISTICS. 

THE  following  statistics,  taken  in  part  from  the 
Warden's  Report,  for  1855,  will  be  interesting  as 
giving  the  ages  at  which  the  prisoners  then  in  pris- 
on were  sentenced,  their  employment,  &c.}  together 
with  a  general  table,  containing  the  statistics  of 
the  prison  from  its  first  opening  in  1812,  to  1855. 
At  that  last  date  there  were  in  confinement  in  all, 
97;  their  birth-places  as  follows: 

United  States,  -                           -       78 

Ireland,    -  -  12 

British  Provinces,  2 

England,  -     2 

Scotland,       -  1 

Italy,  -     1 

Germany,      -  -    «    -                  1 

97 


20  PRISON   REMINISCENCES. 

Crimes  for  which  convicted. 

Theft,  in  various  forms,          -         -  33 

Burglary,                                                 -  27 

Counterfeiting  and  passing,  &c.      -  4 

Forgery,  -                                             -  2 

Burning  houses  and  other  buildings,  10 

Obtaining  goods  under  false  pretences,  3 

Rape  and  attempt,  5 

Manslaughter  and  attempt,                  -  5 

Murder, 3 


97 


Statement  of  Convicts. 

Male  convicts  now  in  prison,  -         -       91 
Female  convicts  now  in  prison,          -     6 

97 

Convicts  are  employed  as  follows  : 

In  cabinet  shop,  -                           -       34 

Shoe  shop,  -  30 

Machine  shop,  -       17 

Shop  waiters,   -  -     3 

Cook,  -  1 

Engineer,  -     1 

Tailor, 1 


STATE  PRISON  STATISTICS.  21 

Washing  and  mending,  -  -  -  2 
Sweeping,  whitewashing  and  gardening,  2 
Females,  -  -  6 

97 

Whole  number,  June  1, 1854,  -  -  105 
Received  since,  -  26 

131 

Discharged  since. 

By  pardon,    -  17 

By  expiration  of  sentence,  -  10 

By  death  by  disease,     -  -        4 

By  death  by  suicide,  -  -     2 

By  removal  to  Insane  Asylum,  -         1 

34 

Remaining  in  prison,  June  1,  1855,     -         97 

Ages  of  prisoners  when  convicted. 
Of  those  in  prison  June  1,  1853  — 

From  12  years  to  16  years,   -        -  7 

«      16     «          20      «  -  21 

«     20     «          25      "                -  28 

«     25     «          30      «  -  -  17 

«     30     «          40      «                -  23 

«     40     "          50      "  -  -     9 

"     50     «          60      «  4 

Total,  -----         109 


16 

u 

20 

u  . 

20 

u 

25 

u 

25 

u 

30 

u  . 

30 

It 

40 

u  * 

40 

« 

50 

1C  . 

50 

il 

60 

u 

22  PRISON   REMINISCENCES. 

Committed  from  Juno  1,  1853,  to  June  1,1854, 

1 

-  5 
3 

-  4 
5 

-  8 
2 

Total,  -  -  28 
Those  in  prison  June  1,  1854  — 

From  12  years  to  16  years,  -                  6 

«      16      «           20      «-  -  16 

«      20      "           25      "  -       22 

"     25      «          30      «  -  17 

"      30      "          40      "  -       24 

"     40     «          50      «-  -  15 

«     *50     "          60      «  -         -         5 

Total,  -  105 
Of  those  in  prison  June  1,  1855  — 

From  12  years  to  16  years  -                  3 

«      16      "          20      "  -  -  15 

"      20      «           25      «  -       17 

«      25      «          30      «  -  16 

«      30      «          40      «  -       29 

"     40      «          50      «  -  -  14 

"     50     "          60      «  3 

Total,  -         -  -  "97 


STATE   PRISON    STATISTICS.  23 

"  •*  "^ 

Number  of  Convicts  in  Prison,  committed,  discharged,  pardoned,  deceased 
and  escaped,  in  each  year  since  the  establishment  of  the  Institution,  in  1812. 

Year.    In  Prison.    Com'ted.    Dlsch'ged.    Pardon'd.    Kem'ved  to  In-   Died.   Escaped. 

sane  Asylum. 


1812 

1 

1 

1813 

12 

11 

1814 

22 

14 

4 

1815 

23 

13 

5 

2 

1816 

48 

31 

5 

1 

1817 

59 

29 

13 

3 

1818 

69 

26 

16 

1819 

02 

17 

20 

1 

1820 

61 

18 

15 

2 

1821 

65 

23 

15 

2 

1822 

57 

16 

19 

2 

1823 

66 

26 

11 

5 

1824 

62 

19 

17 

5 

1825 

60 

24 

13 

3 

1826 

59 

13 

15 

4 

1827 

48 

I'M 

14 

7 

1828 

56 

20 

S 

4 

1829 

50 

11 

9 

7 

1830 

68 

31 

9 

4 

1831 

81 

24 

8 

3 

1832 

82 

19 

10 

6 

1833 

81 

16 

8 

9 

1834 

79 

13 

4 

11 

1835 

78 

23 

6 

16 

1836 

86 

21 

8 

4 

1837 

72 

12 

15 

10 

1838 

70 

5 

4 

3 

1839 

73 

30 

10 

15 

1840 

78 

24 

4 

14 

1841 

84 

28 

13 

7 

1842 

92 

20 

9 

3 

1843 

99 

28 

17 

4 

1844- 

89 

25 

19 

15 

1845 

81 

'  14 

8 

12 

1846 

74 

30 

12 

22 

1847 

61 

14 

12 

18 

1848 

77 

42 

11 

14 

1S49 

82 

17 

9 

2 

1850 

91 

36 

10 

14 

1851 

95 

26 

7 

11 

1852 

111 

44 

11 

11 

1853 

109 

24 

9 

15 

1854 

105 

23 

13 

13 

18-55 

97 

26 

10 

17 

944  455  816  2  63  15 


24  PRISON   REMINISCENCES. 

1*   r> 

The  number  of  Convicts  received  from  each  County 
during  the  year  ending  June  1,  1855. 

From  Rockingham  2 

"  Strafford,  -     4 

"  Belknap,      -  0 

«  Carroll,  -  -     0 

"  Merrimack  -  2 

"  Hillsbo  rough,  -  -  14 

"  Cheshire,     -  0 

«  Sullivan,  -     1 

«  Grafton,       -  2 

"  Coos,      -  -     1 

Total,  -      26 

During  the  first  thirty  years  of  the  history  of 
our  prison,  up  to  1852,  I  find  that  eight  hundred 
and  three  individuals  have  been  committed.  Of 
that  number,  there  had  died  in  prison  forty,  aver- 
aging just  one  per  year,  with  an  average  number 
of  convicts  of  about  eighty  —  a  much  less  propor- 
tion than  in  our  community  in  general. 

Of  this  number,  four  hundred  and  eighty-seven 
were  convicted  of  thefts  or  attempts  to  steal,  in 
which  number  I  reckon  breaking,  when  done  with 
a  thievish  intent.  Of  these,  thirty-four  have  been 
returned  to  our  prison  for  the  second  time,  two  for 
the  third  time,  and  one  for  the  fourth  time.  Of 


STATE  PRISON   STATISTICS.  25 

the  remaining  one  hundred  and  sixty-five,  impris- 
oned for  what  are  deemed  higher  offences,  but  two 
have  been  returned,  and  neither  of  them  for  a  repe- 
tition of  the  crime  for  which  they  were  first  im- 
prisoned, but  for  crime  of  another  class. 

Of  those  committed  for  theft,  one  in  about  thir- 
teen were  recommitted.  Of  all  other  offences,  one 
in  eighty-three.  It  will  be  seen  that  nearly  three- 
fourths  of  all  were  committed  for  theft  in  some 
form ;  and  that  it  is  not  only  the  most  common 
form  of  crime,  but  that  there  is  for  these  offenders 
the  least  hope  of  reform.  The  following  table  will 
make  this  plain : 


Committed. 

Recommitted. 

For 

Theft, 

487 

37 

u 

Counterfeiting, 

44 

1 

u 

Forgery, 

31 

u 

Manslaughter, 

17 

u 

Attempt  to  Kill, 

13 

11 

Burning, 

9 

Cl 

Attempt  at  Rape, 

9 

(I 

Rape, 

4 

it 

Arson, 

6 

(( 

Perjury, 

6 

11 

Murder, 

2 

(I 

Maiming, 

2 

1 

u 

Other  Offences, 

8 

2 

26  PEISON   REMINISCENCES. 

I  have  no  doubt  these  facts  will  surprise  many, 
as  I  must  confess  they  did  myself.  And  they 
should  be  known  to  those  honorable  bodies  with 
whom  is  lodged  the  pardoning  power.  I  do  not 
think  them  generally  known  or  well  considered,  by 
such,  it  being  only  an  incidental  and  (by  most  con- 
sidered) unimportant  item  of  their  official  busi- 
ness. Hence  I  have  found  that  when  petitions  for 
the  pardon  of  criminals  have  been  presented,  and 
the  inquiry  is  made,  What  is  his  offence  ?  the  case 
of  one  guilty  only  of  theft  is,  by  nearly  all,  looked 
upon  with  most  favor.  A  man  who,  for  the  crime 
of  manslaughter,  having  suffered  perhaps  ten  years, 
his  friends  can  no  longer  restrain  their  pity,  and 
send  in  petitions  for  his  pardon.  It  is  easy  to  see, 
when  the  man's  crime  is  announced,  that  his  case 
will  be  likely  to  go  hard.  The  first  feelings  nat- 
urally rise  against  the  liberation  of  such  a  man. 
Why,  even  now  his  hands  seem  to  be  dripping  with 
blood;  and  the  dictate  of  prudence  seems  to  be  — 
by  no  means  let  him  out  to  murder  others.  And 
yet,  forty  men  guilty  of  manslaughter  or  attempt  to 
kill  have  gone  out  from  our  prison,  not  one  of 
whom  has  ever  been  known  to  repeat  his  offence, 
or  to  be  guilty  of  any  other,  such  as  would  impris- 
on him  in  our  State  Penitentiary. 

Another  has  suffered  many  long  years  for  the 


STATE   PEISON   STATISTICS.  27 

crime  of  rape.  His  friends  ask  for  mercy,  but  the 
common  feeling  is  —  he  is  a  dangerous  man ;  it  will 
not  do.  Without  a  wish  to  extenuate  the  guilt  of 
him  who  commits  this  great  offence,  I  would  still 
take  into  the  account  this  fact,  that  of  the  thirteen 
who  have  gone  out,  not  one  has  been  charged  with 
a  second  offence  of  the  kind.  And  when  the  libera- 
tion of  one  guilty  of  forgery  or  counterfeiting  is 
prayed  for,  the  objection  at  once  arises :  Why,  he 
will  be  into  his  old  business  again;  the  offence  is  a 
very  grave  one,  and  he  will  be  back  with  his  old 
confederates,  bent  on  mischief,  and  making  sad 
work  again.  But  we  have  seen  that,  of  the 
seventy-five  guilty  of  these  crimes  who  have  gone 
out,  not  one  has  been  recommitted  for  a  repetition 
of  his  offence,  and  but  one  of  this  number  has  ever 
been  returned  for  any  other.  Were  I  a  member  of 
an  Executive  Board,  I  should  be  compelled,  with 
these  facts  before  me,  to  act  with  great  caution  in 
pardoning  out  one  who  had  deliberately,  and  in  a 
sober  mind,  been  guilty  of  stealing.  This  is  a 
matter  that  concerns  parents,  and  all  others  having 
charge  of  the  young.  It  is  an  alarming  fact  that  a 
habit  of  stealing  'is  almost  incurable ;  great  pains 
should  be  taken  to  impress  this  on  the  young  mind, 
and  to  make  it  feel  that  all  practices  not  perfectly 
agreeing  with  the  strictest  honesty  should  be 


28  PRISON   REMINISCENCES. 

avoided.  There  seems  to  be  in  the  history  of  the 
persistent  thief  a  point  beyond  which  he  loses  all 
self-control.  Stealing  is  a  perfect  mania.  He 
plunders  community,  not  because  he  is  avaricious, 
perhaps ;  but  he  is  almost  irresistibly  impelled  to 
the  act  by  an  influence  he  himself  cannot  under- 
stand or  explain.  Some  of  this  class  steal 
indiscriminately  any  thing  and  every  thing  they  can 
lay  their  hands  on.  An  inventory  of  the  possessions 
of  some  of  these  men,  when  justice  at  last  over- 
takes them,  would  do  something  at  least  toward 
furnishing  a  farm,  a  workshop,  a  boarding  house, 
and  a  cabinet  of  curiosities.  Others  seem 
inclined  to  take  some  particular  article,  or  to 
confine  themselves  to  one  particular  branch  of 
business,  following  the  plan  of  a  "  division  of 
labor."  "  Dealing  in  horses  and  carriages"  is  a 
very  popular  employment  in  these  times.  As  these 
articles  of  property  command  "  a  good  price,  and 
ready  sale,"  and  as  these  are  considerations  pecu- 
liarly interesting  to  such  men,  there  has  been  a 
manifest  tendency  toward  this  branch  of  industry, 
until  the  business  seems  rather  overdone  —  at  all 
events  many  poor  fellows  have  been  undone  by  it. 
There  is  a  class  of  thieves  who,  from  their 
earliest  developments  have  manifested  an  incurable 
propensity  for  this  vice.  An  instance  we  now  have 


STATE   PRISON   STATISTICS.  29 

,in  our  prison,  in  the  person  of  one  "  Chandler" 
I  am  credibly  informed  that  as  soon  as  he  was  able 
to  creep  about  the  house,  he  manifested  this 
propensity  in  a  remarkable  manner.  For  instance, 
give  him  an  apple  or  any  desirable  thing,  and  he 
seemed  quite  indifferent  whether  he  took  it  or  not. 
But  let  the  same  article  be  laid  where  he  could  get 
at  it,  and,  as  soon  as  he  supposed  no  one  saw  him, 
he  would  seize  it  eagerly  and  with  the  utmost 
sagacity  secrete  it.  On  such  an  occasion  his 
gratification  seemed  excessive.  In  a  short  time  he 
would  become  indifferent  to  his  treasure,  and 
perhaps  throw  it  away,  and  yet  take  the  earliest 
opportunity  to  pilfer  some  article  of  the  same 
kind  and  manifest  a  like  gratification.  As  he  grew 
up,  this  propensity  continued.  No  correction  or 
instruction  seemed  to  have  the  least  effect  on  him. 
In  every  other  respect  he  was  a  well-disposed  lad, 
peaceable,  kind  hearted,  liberal,  of  a  very  amiable 
disposition.  Every  one  seemed  disposed  to  bear 
with  him.  But,  at  the  age  of  twelve  years,  the 
patience  of  the  neighbors  was  exhausted,  and  he 
was  arrested,  tried,  committed  and  sentenced  to 
seven  year's  imprisonment.  These  were  served 
out,  and  within  a  few  months  he  was  arrested  and 
brought  back  to  his  old  quarters  on  another  sentence 
of  the  same  length.  The  other  seven  years  passed 
2* 


30  PEISON   REMINISCENCES. 

away  not  so  soon  or  so  pleasantly  as  did  the 
second  seven  years  of  the  patriarch  when  earning 
his  Rachel.  They  however  did  pass.  Chandler 
enjoyed  the  sweets  of  liberty  a  few  months,  and 
came  home  again  to  his  old  residence  —  crime, 
stealing  an  old  bedstead  of  perhaps  the  value  of 
ten  cents.  It  being  his  third  sentence  it  was  made 
for  life.  After  another  (and  the  third)  seven  years 
were  passed,  he  having  become  much  enfeebled 
from  his  prison  life,  in  which  he  had  passed  twenty 
one  consecutive  anniversaries  of  his  birthday,  some 
benevolent  persons  interested  themselves  in  his 
condition,  and  succeeded  in  procuring  his  pardon. 
And  now  every  one  seemed  anxious  that  poor 
Daniel  should  taste  the  sweets  of  liberty  for  the 
remaining  days  of  his  life.  He  was  treated  kindly, 
supplied  with  work,  married  a  wife,  built  him  a 
house,  (very  modest,  but  still,  a  house,)  and  for  a 
year  or  more  seemed  to  have  subdued  his  old 
propensity.  But  at  length  some  small  articles  of 
property  were  missing,  and  Chandler  was  suspected 
and  threatened.  In  the  course  of  three  years  his 
petty  larcenies  became  so  frequent,  that  the 
community  began  to  think  of  casting  him  once  more 
on  the  State.  At  length  in  attempting  to  steal  a 
padlock  (an  article  in  which  he  always  seemed 


STATE   PRISON   STATISTICS.  31 

much  interested)  from  a  railroad  switch  frame, 
he  ran  a  whole  train  off  the  track,  to  the  loss  of 
some  hundreds  of  dollars,  and  the  extreme  jeopardy 
of  many  lives.  This  settled  the  business,  and 
Daniel  was  duly  installed  in  his  old  position  for 
the  fourth  term.  This  is  unquestionably  to  be  a 
"  finality"  with  the  unhappy  man.  On  examining 
his  stock  on  hand  there  were  found  articles  almost 
numberless  and  almost  valueless.  It  was  a  singu- 
lar trait  in  this  man's  character  that  he  never 
aspired  to  "  high  things."  He  left  gold  watches,  jew- 
elry, or  ready  cash  to  the  care  of  the  aristocratic 
thief  who  might  covet  such  useless  things.  It  was 
sufficient  to  content  the  unaspiring,  unobtrusive 
Daniel  that  he  could  be  the  humble  gleaner  of  such 
things  as  old  buckles,  padlocks,  hammers,  pegging 
awls,  gimlets,  <fcc. ;  these  were  his  treasures.  Now  I 
humbly  submit  whether  this  man  is  not  a  fit  subject 
for  the  Insane  Asylum  rather  than  the  State  Prison. 
And  his  is  not  the  only  case  of  the  kind  among  us. 
There  is  a  class  who,  like  him,  arc  not  of  sane 
mind.  They  are  the  victims,  not  of  crime  but 
'misfortune.  The  propensity  is  inherent  and 
incurable.  To  be  sure,  great  caution  should  be 
observed  in  coming  to  this  conclusion  in  any  given 
case,  for  in  most  instances  no  doubt  it  is  like  other 


32  PRISON   REMINISCENCES. 

bad  habits ;  and  if  the  man  has  now  lost  his  self 
control,  he  should  be  held  guilty  and  punished 
accordingly.  But  in"cases  like  that  of  Chandler,  I 
submit  whether  such  should  not  be  held  and  treated 
as  monomaniacs. 


CANDIDATES"  FOR  THE  PENITENTIARY.         33 
CHAPTER  III. 

CANDIDATES   FOR   THE   PENITENTIARY. 

From  what  classes  are  convicts  for  the  State 
Prison  service  drawn  ?  This  is  a  question  that  I 
propose  to  answer^s  we  preachers  say, 

1.  Negatively. 

Not  from  religious  families,  truly  such.  I  have 
taken  great  pains  to  inquire  into  the  history  of  the 
New  Hampshire  State  Prison,  and  I  can  find  few, 
very  few  cases  of  exception  to  this.  For  the  past 
nine  years  in  which  I  have  had  a  personal  acquaint- 
ance with  several  hundreds  of  convicts,  I  have  not 
found  a  son  of  a  clergyman,  deacon,  class  leader, 
steward,  or  church  warden,  among  them,  except  one 
who  was  early  adopted  into  a  wealthy  but  wicked 
family.  And  I  cannot  learn  of  but  one  other  who 
had  been  in  prison  previous  to  that  time,  and  he 
was  discharged  soon  after  his  committal,  on  the 
ground  of  insanity.  There  are  a  few  who  had  a 
pious  parent,  perhaps  a  mother:  but  whose  family 
connections  were  of  an  unfavorable  character,  and 
who  were  thrown  into  community  at  a  time  when 
counsel  and  restraint  were  most  needed.  I  can 


34  PRISON   REMINISCENCES.     ' 

recollect  of  but  one  who,  up  to  the  age  of  eighteen, 
was  brought  up  by  pious  parents,  and  of  his  guilt 
in  the  matter  charged  there  is  much  doubt.  These 
facts  show  the  salutary  effects  of  religious  education, 
and  overthrow  the  oft  repeated  statement  that 
ministers'  and  deacons'  sons  are  more  vicious  than 
others.  Carefully  collated  statistics  have  shown 
long  since  the  falsity  of  that  opinion  to  the  satis- 
faction of  well  informed  persojj^ ;  and  as  a  friend 
of  religion  I  am  happy  to  add  the  above  facts. 

There  are,  however,  frequent  cases  of  persons 
committed  who  had  once  been  church  members, 
though  most  of  them  had  given  up  their  Christian 
profession  or  been  expelled  before  the  commission 
of  the  crime  which  brought  them  to  prison.  These 
persons  were  not  blessed  with  a  good  religious 
education,  and  hence  however  sincerely  they  may 
have  professed  religion,  in  the  time  of  trial  or  of 
temptation,  they  erred  "  from  the  good  and  the 
right  way,"  and  made  shipwreck  of  faith.  And  all 
the  pains-taking  of  ministers  and  laymen  will 
succeed  but  seldom  in  supplying  the  gross  lack  of 
an  early  education.  These  professors  of  religion 
in  almost  every  instance,  fell  through  intemperance. 
Of  what  religious  persuasion  or  denomination  were 
these  men  ?  I  answer,  frankly :  Of  all  the  several 
denominations  among  us ;  all  are  here  represented. 


CANDIDATES    FOR    THE    PENITENTIARY.  35 

I  have  carefully  inquired  and  compared,  and  I  think 
each  has  about  its  fair  representation  as  to  number. 

I  know  this  statement  will  not  flatter  the  bigot 
who  sees  nothing  but  perfection  in  his  own  church, 
and  all  imperfection  elsewhere ;  but  it  may  do  him 
good,  and  hereafter  he  may  not  so  confidently 
exclaim,  "  The  Temple  of  the  Lord  are  we,"  or 
imagine  that  other  denominations  are  responsible 
for  all  the  immoralities  of  the  land.  In  the  above 
calculation  I  have  spoken  of  Protestant  denomina- 
tions only.  The  Catholics  are  much  more  largely 
represented.  About  one-eighth  of  the  convicts  are 
Catholics,  which  is  probably  four-fold  their  propor- 
tion. It  is  but  justice,  however,  that  I  should  say 
that  the  Catholic  convicts  were  not  as  a  general 
thing  devout,  church  going  Catholics,  but  generally 
men  who  had  not  much  instruction  or  much  venera- 
tion for  the  religion  in  which  they  were  brought 
up.  A  small  number  bring  with  them  a  prayer 
book  or  some  small  religious  volume,  such  as 
"  Patrick's  Book  for  Beginners, "  and  seem  to 
manifest  some  attachment  to  their  religion. 

I  have  often  been  written  to  and  inquired  of, 
whether  any  considerable  proportion  of  the 
convicts  had  been  Sabbath  School  scholars,  and 
have  taken  much  pains  to  ascertain.  The  result  is, 
I  have  not  found  one  who  had  from  early  youth  to 


36  PKISON   REMINISCENCES. 

years  of  maturity,  been  an  attendant  on  any  Sabbath 
School.  More  than  one-half  never  saw  such  a 
scliool ;  a  considerable  number  were  once  attendants 
for  a  short  time,  some  one  season,  others  only  a 
few  Sabbaths,  but  in  not  a  single  instance  that  has 
come  to  my  knowledge,  has  one  been  connected 
with  any  Sabbath  School,  for  a  time  sufficient  to 
make  any  considerable  improvement.  Nor  do  I 
recollect  of  a  convict  trained  to  a  strict  observance 
of  the  Sabbath,  but  in  a  single  instance.  There 
are  many  families  not  professedly  pious,  who  yet 
regard  that  sacred  institution,  and  these  families 
are  not  found  represented  in  our  State  Prison. 

The  learned  professions  furnish  few  convicts. 
There  is  a  tradition  that  many  years  since,  a  man 
who  had  been  a  Baptist  preacher,  but  who  "in 
consequence  of  intemperance  had  given  up  his 
credentials  and  his  religious  profession,  was  after- 
wards convicted  of  crime,  and  for  several  years 
an  inmate  of  our  prison ;  and  also  that  another  man 
who  was  a  "  Christian  Baptist,"  so  termed,  and  a 
licentiate,  was  formerly  among  the  convicts.  It  is 
not  known  whether  he  was  imprisoned  for  an  offence 
committed  during  his  days  of  religious  profession, 
or  whether,  like  the  other  person  named,  he  first 
abandoned  his  profession.  At  all  events,  he  was 
not  an  ordained  minister.  It  is,  therefore,  certain 


CANDIDATES   FOR   THE    PENITENTIARY.  37 

that  no  minister  of  any  denomination  has  yet  been 
within  these  walls  as  a  prisoner. 

Of  physicians,  I  know  of  but  one,  though  some 
half-dozen  have,  within  the  last  eight  years,  had  a 
very  narrow  escape,  and  that  by  the  payment  of  heavy 
bonds.  These  cases  do  not,  however,  seriously 
affect  the  reputation  of  that  most  worthy  class  of 
our  citizens,  who  (whatever  may  be  said  of  them 
by  the  grumbler  or  the  joker)  are  certainly  most 
cordially  greeted  at  our  bedsides  in  extreme  cases, 
and  who  it  is  equally  true,  are  generally  the  friends 
of  sound  morals  and  piety. 

I  cannot  learn  that  any  instance  has  yet  occurred 
of  a  regular  practising  lawyer  being  caught  and 
held  to  trial  and  found  guilty,  and  transferred  from 
the  county  jail  to  the  prison.  As  great  liberties 
are  sometimes  taken  (in  the  way  of  joking)  with 
the  legal  profession,  would  it  be  strange  if  some 
one  should  insinuate  that  this  very  worthy  class  of 
men  made  use  of  their  knowledge  of  law  to  escape 
its  penalties,  and  that  the  use  of  weapons  had  not 
only  made  them  skillful  in  the  offensive  but  also  in 
the  defensive.  Two  or  three  of  this  profession 
have  recently,  in  this  State,  escaped  imprisonment 
by  the  forfeiture  of  their  bonds.  They  were, 
however,  lawyers  "to  fortune  and  to  fame  un- 
known." 

4 


. 

38  PRISON    REMINISCENCES. 


I  have  the  happiness  to  number  among  my  friends 
many  printers ;  but  though  it  may  seem  to  imply 
either  a  lack  of  ability  on  the  part  of  the  minister, 
or  the  want  of  the  qualities  that  are  necessary  in 
order  to  appreciate  good  preaching  on  the  other 
part,  yet  I  will  reveal  the  fact  that  I  have  never 
succeeded  well  with  that  class.  For  the  nine  long 
years,  and  with  all  the  inducements  offered,  njot  one 
of  that  trade  has  connected  himself  with  my  con- 
gregation. And  I  do  not  think  a  man  could  be 
found  of  all  who  ever  tenanted  our  prison,  who 
could  set  up  a  column  of  type.  I  leave  the  reader 
to  make  his  own  comments,  only  remarking  that 
this  cannot  be  accidental,  nor  can  the  explanation 
be,  that  the  employment  keeps  one  ignorant  of 
prevailing  vices  and  immoralities ;  nor  yet  that 
young  printers  are  removed  from  the  large  masses 
where  corruptions  engender  and  spread.  In  all 
these  respects  this  class  is  much  exposed.  It  is 
evident,  we  think,  that  the  employment  has  an 
elevating  tendency,  and  is  favorable  to  intellectual 
and  moral  improvement. 

It  is  very  seldom  that  a  man  having  a  trade  in 
any  one  of  the  mechanical  pursuits  finds  his  way  to 
prison.  Not  one  in  ten,  I  think,  of  all  the  impris- 
oned, had  any  particular  calling  or  employment,  and 
those  few  of  such  pursuits  as  required  a  large 


CANDIDATES   FOE   THE   PENITENTIAKY.  39 

number  to  be  employed  together,  and  in  our  large 
villages  or  cities  where  temptations  to  sin  abound. 
The  owner  of  the  soil  is  rarely  found  in  a  felon's 
cell.  I  know  of  scarce  one  who  owned  and  culti- 
vated land.  No ;  the  ownership  of  land  gives  one 
an  elevation  of  mind,  a  sort  of  conscious  superiority 
over  him  who  can  claim  no  spot  of  all  God's  green 
earth  as  his.  I  would  give  a  man  who  finds  himself 
inclined  to  immoral  practices,  such  as  lead  to 
disgrace  and  prison,  this  recipe :  buy  land,  though 
it  be  but  an  acre,  pay  for  it,  and  cultivate  it.  If 
convicts,  then,  are  not  taken  from  these  classes, 
whence  are  they  ? 

From  vicious  families,  idle  and  unprincipled 
parents,  who  neither  fear  God  nor  regard  the  moral 
condition  of  their  families  ;  themselves  vicious,  and 
by  precept  and  example  corrupting  their  children. 
No  wonder  such  children  throng  our  prisons.  And 
what  being  on  God's  earth  is  so  guilty,  so  detesta- 
ble, as  a  parent  training  up  his  household  for 
destruction,  and  leading  the  way  before  them.  The 
case  of  such  children  calls  aloud  for  our  pity,  and 
patient  and  persevering  aid. 

There  are  other  families  where  the  example  and 
persuasion  of  a  good  mother  succeeds  in  saving  the 
most  of  the  children,  though  it  generally  happens 
that  the  vicious  father  will  have  at  least  one  son  to 


40  PRISON    REMINISCENCES. 

tread  in  his  footsteps,  and  to  curse  the  world  when 
his  bones  and  his  memory  have  perished.  A  large 
proportion  of  convicts  come  from  that  class  known 
as  shameless  and  unblushing  Sabbath  breakers.  It 
is  well  known  that  a  great  proportion  of  crime  is 
planned  and  perpetrated  on  the  Sabbath.  The  idle 
and  vicious  meet,  and  from  associating  become 
doubly  corrupt.  Then  are  laid  plans  of  mischief 
and  of  crime,  the  execution  of  which  brings  many  a 
young  man  to  prison.  I  could  give  narratives  here 
that  would  startle  the  inhabitants  of  some  of  our 
large  villages  and  cities,  but  that  their  publication 
would,  in  my  judgment,  be  prejudicial  to  the  interests 
of  morality. 

Every  one  will  be  prepared  to  hear  that  intem- 
perance is  the  highway  to  prison.  Perhaps, 
however,  a  less  proportion  of  our  convicts  are  from 
the  class  of  drunkards  than  in  almost  any  peniten- 
tiary in  the  United  States.  I  judge  that  about 
one-fourth  were  outright  drunkards,  and  another 
fourth  occasionally  drunk.  Of  the  rest,  very  few 
were  "  total  abstinents"  not  more  than  one  in  ten. 
Nearly  all  would  drink  occasionally.  We  are  to 
place  to  the  account  of  intemperance,  therefore, 
most  of  the  crimes  committed  in  New  Hampshire, 
that  are  punishable  with  State  Prison  confinement; 
either  directly  or  indirectly,  at  least  three-quarters 
of  our  convicts  are  the  victims  of  rum. 


CANDIDATES   FOR   THE   PENITENTIARY.  41 

"  Had  drunkenness  anything  to  do  with  your 
coming  to  prison  ?"  asked  a  temperance  man,  ad- 
dressing a  prisoner.  "  No  ;  that  is  —  O  —  ah  —  yes. 
The  sheriff  was  drunk  when  he  brought  me  here." 
This  to  be  sure,  was  rather  indirect  influence,  but 
I  apprehend  not  a  solitary  case  of  the  kind.  A 
very  large  proportion  of  the  convicts  were  left 
orphans  at  an  early  age.  "Have  you  a  mother  ?"  is 
a  question  I  generally  put  to  a  young  man  on  my 
first  introduction  to  him.  The  answer,  in  perhaps 
half  of  the  cases,  is  "  My  mother  died  when  I  was 
small ;"  or, "  I  was  sent  from  home  when  very  young." 
Very  seldom  do  we  find  one  who,  up  to  the  age  of 
twenty-one,  has  had  the  benefit  of  wholesome 
maternal  influence.  Poor  fellows  !  A  mother's  hand 
never  smoothed  down  those  young  locks ;  a  mother's 
tear  never  fell  on  them ;  a  mother's  gentle  voice 
never  calmed  the  passions  of  thy  young  heart,  nor 
spoke  to  thee  of  Jesus  and  eternal  life.  A  mother 
never  knelt  beside  thee  and  with  prayer  such  as 
only  a  mother  can  offer,  consecrated  thee  to  God. 
A  mother  never  taught  thee  to  say,  "  Our  Father 
which  art  in  Heaven,"  nor  that 

"  Religion  should  our  thoughts  engage 

Amid  our  youthful  bloom; 

'Twill  fit  us  for  declining  age 

And  for  the  awful  tomb." 

2* 


42  PRISON    REMINISCENCES. 

Left  to  the  care  of  some  heartless  relative,  or, 
perhaps,  thrown  upon  the  public  for  maintenance, 
the  result  should  surprise  no  one. 

Within  a  few  years  past,  a  large  number  of  our 
young  men  have  left  their  mountain  homes  in 
Vermont  and  northern  New  Hampshire,  to  seek 
more  lucrative  employment  in  our  villages  and 
cities.  These  are  thrown  into  circumstances  of 
great  peril.  They  are  no  longer  under  the  eye  of 
a  vigilant  parent,  or  influenced  by  the  presence  of 
their  early  virtuous  associates.  The  home  circle 
no  longer  operates  to  secure  their  morality.  But 
a  thousand  temptations  at  once  present  themselves, 
of  the  existence  of  which  they  were  hardly  aware, 
and  coming  in  a  form  so  alluring  as  to  almost  defy 
resistance.  With  money  at  their  command,  and 
with  hours  and  days  of  leisure,  they  gradually  yield 
to  these  temptations.  "Evil  communications  cor- 
rupt good  manners,"  and  from  this  class  a  large 
number  has  been  convicted  of  crime  and  incarcer- 
ated. 0,  how  many  a  father  and  mother  from 
northern  New  England,  have  I  seen  weeping  over  a 
son  whose  morals,  a  few  months  before,  were  sound ; 
who  was  the  pride  of  his  parents,  the  boast  of  the 
little  school  district,  and  the  loved  of  all  his 
acquaintance  !  "  Why  bless  me,"  exclaimed  the 
astonished  neighbors  when  the  dreadful  truth  came 


CANDIDATES   FOR   THE   PENITENTIARY.  43 

out,  "  I  should  as  soon  have  thought  it  of  any  young 
man  in  our  town."  I  will  not  attempt  to  describe 
the  anguish  of  those  parents.  The  father  looks  up- 
on his  son,  his  character  gone,  and  all  his  prospects 
for  life  blighted.  He  puts  on  no  airs  of  fashiona- 
ble mourning;  "  the  iron  has  entered  his  soul;"  his 
is  "  the  silent  manliness  of  grief."  He  was  not 
called  a  proud  man,  but  he  was  proud ;  proud  of 
his  favorite  son,  and  proud  of  the  family  character, 
a  character  on  which  no  stain  had  rested  heretofore. 
"  With  louder  plaints  the  mother  told  her  woes." 
Ah,  those  convulsive  sobs  and  cries,  they  indicate 
no  common  sorrow.  They  come  up  from  the  deep 
fountains  of  the  heart  —  a  mother's  heart. 

Imagine,  if  you  can,  the  feelings  and  appearance 
of  the  poor  young  man.  Guilty,  speechless ;  0, 
how  his  heart  aches  as  he  looks  upon  his  parents, 
and  as  all  their  care  and  love  for  him  are  remem- 
bered !  Now  the  thought,  I  am  bringing  their  "  grey 
hairs  with  sorrow  to  the  grave,"  is  overwhelming. 
But  why  do  I  attempt  to  describe  a  scene  like  this  ! 
Language  is  inadequate.  I  pray  God  that  the 
families,  into  which  this  book  may  enter,  may  never 
experience  grief  and  shame,  such  as  have  over- 
whelmed the  family  of  many  an  honest  farmer  or 
mechanic,  in  our  rural  districts. 

It  has  already  been  remarked  that  a  large  pro- 


44  PRISON   REMINISCENCES. 

portion  of  Catholics,  and  mostly  of  Irish  extraction, 
are  convicted  of  crime.  These  are,  in  almost  every 
instance,  the  victims  of  intemperance.  All  know 
the  social  habits  of  Irishmen,  and  how  at  their 
numerous  holydays,  wakes,  burials,  weddings,  &c., 
the  custom  of  drinking  is  almost  universal.  Hence 
it  is  easy  to  account  for  the  frequency  of  crimes 
among  them,  without  the  necessity  of  reckoning 
them  as  naturally  thievish  or  quarrelsome.  Indeed 
we  seldom  find  an  Irishman  convicted  of  theft,  or 
any  other  offence,  committed  when  alone  and  sober. 
It  generally  happens  on  this  wise  :  at  the  close  of 
a  holyday,  a  party  meet  at  the  hospitable  mansion 
of  one  of  the  party.  For  awhile  all  goes  on  well 
and  peaceably.  Stories  of  the  "  ould  counthry" 
are  told ;  songs  of  "  sweet  Erin"  are  sung,  and 
many  a  merry  joke  is  uttered;  the  time  passes 
rapidly  and  so  does  the  bottle.  Now,  "  Mike," 
having  imbibed  freely,  begins  to  feel  the  moving  of 
the  spirit  of  "  Donnybrookfair"  He  talks  loud 
and  fast,  and  is  evidently  aiming  to  get  up  a  "  free 
fight."  For  a  time  good  counsels  prevail,  but  the 
whiskey  circulates,  and  so  does  the  war  spirit  that 
originated  with  Mike.  That  distinguished  individ- 
ual soon  finds  an  antagonist  worthy  of  his  weapons. 
The  first  blow  is  struck,  the  first  blood  is  shed,  and 
the  war  has  commenced  in  earnest.  Both  parties 


CANDIDATES   FOR  THE   PENITENTIARY.  45 

are  reinforced,  for  enlistments  are  rapid,  the  sinews 
of  war  being  supplied  by  "  Patrick,"  Commissary 
General  of  both  armies ;  who,  like  a  wise  officer,  has 
made  good  provision  for  a  long  campaign,  fill  ing  his 
large  keg  with  liquor  and  his  pockets  with  cash. 
"  Long  time  in  even  scale  the  battle  hung,"  nor  is 
it  known  to  this  day  which  of  the  contending  parties 
won  the  field.  Both  gave  and  received  many 
dreadful  wounds.  The  beautiful  face  of  many 
a  brave  Celt  was  sadly  disfigured,  and  the  holyday 
dress  of  many  a  luckless  one  hung  like  the  tattered 
sail  of  a  vessel  in  a  hurricane.  The  field  of  con- 
flict was  strewn  with  the  wreck  of  furniture,  clothing, 
broken  earthen,  and  wounded  and  drunken  men 
and  women. 

At  length  the  neighborhood,  out  of  all  patience, 
called  to  their  aid  the  slow  but  strong  arm  of  the 
law.  The  police  come  upon  them,  and,  though  both 
parties  would  be  glad  to  unite  against  these  dis- 
turbers of  their  enjoyments,  yet  their  exhausted 
strength  is  not  equal  to  a  successful  contest,  and 
one  after  another  reluctantly  surrenders.  Then 
comes  the  summing  up  of  the  matter.  The  exas- 
perated citizens  are  resolved  to  break  up  the  haunt, 
and  each  combatant  is  anxious  to  clear  himself  of 
blame  and  lay  it  on  another.  After  a  most  exciting 
trial  and  much  very  doubtful  swearing,  the  record 


46  PRISON   REMINISCENCES. 

*  • 

of  the  court  reads  thus :  "  Mike  O'Leary  and  Jerry 
O'Neale,  for  assault  with  intent  to  kill,  twenty  years 
each  in  the  State  Prison;"  Patrick  Flinnegan, 
assault,  five  years ;  young  Thomas  Doherty,  a  very 
improper  attempt  of  a  very  indecent  character,  old 
Mrs.  Murphy  being  the  insulted  one,  ten  years  in 
State  Prison  and  nineteen  days  solitary ;  and  divers 
others,  imprisonment  in  the  county  jail  for  a  speci- 
fied number  of  months. 

"  O  these  furriners,  what  can  be  the  occasion  of 
such  quarrels !  "Why  cannot  they  love  one  another 
as  we  Yankees  do  ?"  exclaims  old  Miss  A.,  whose 
tongue  walks  through  the  village,  sparing  neither 
age,  sex,  nor  condition.  "  A  cuss  to  our  country," 
mutters  old  Shylock  who  has  drained  the  pockets 
and  impoverished  an  hundred  families. 

The  question  is  asked  each  prisoner  on  his 
arrival,  "  Have  you  a  trade  ?"  "  No,  sir,"  is  the 
almost  invariable  answer.  "  What  have  you  been 
accustomed  to  do  ?"  "  "Well,  work  out  by  the  day  at 
almost  any  kind  of  work;"  "  have  worked  some  on 
a  farm,  generally  tended  stable  or  worked  in  a 
tavern,  done  a  little  of  most  everything."  Now  it 
is  easy  to  perceive  that  such  a  way  of  living,  exposes 
a  young  man  to  all  kinds  of  temptations ;  whereas 
the  young  man  with  a  good  trade,  or  the  farmer, 
possessed  of  his  small  farm,  will  seldom  stray  far 
from  the  path  of  integrity  and  uprightness. 


CANDIDATES   FOR   THE   PENITENTIARY.  47 

These  suggestions  may  be  of  use  to  parents  and 
guardians,  to  whose  good  sense  I  appeal  in  behalf  of 
the  young  committed  to  their  care.  0,  make  the 
question  of  their  morals  the  paramount  question 
in  determining  their  calling  for  life  !  Do  not  hazard 
their  reputation  and  jeopardize  their  best  interests 
by  allowing  them  to  go  into  employments  where 
temptations  to  evil  beset  them  at  every  step.  Seek 
out  a  calling,  such  as  seems  to  be  indicated  by  the 
taste  or  genius  of  the  lad ;  but  let  both  his  occupa- 
tion and  home  be  selected  with  reference  to  his 
moral  and  spiritual  interests,  and  in  the  end  you 
will  rejoice  in  the  selection. 


48  PRISON  REMINISCENCES. 

>f\ 

CHAPTER    IV. 

PICTURE    OF   PRISON   LIFE. 

MANY  of  the  readers  of  this  book  have  never 
seen  a  State  Prison ;  to  such,  this  chapter  will  be 
interesting.  It  is,  however,  impossible  to  give  any 
description  on  paper  that  will  convey  fully  to  the 
mind  a  just  conception  of  the  subject  here  intro- 
duced. To  realize  this,  it  is  necessary  to  take  into 
the  account  a  great  many  things  that  cannot  well 
be  brought  forward  in  one  short  chapter. 

At  an  early  hour  the  prison  bell  rings  briskly, 
awakening  the  poor  fellows  from  their  slumbers,  in 
which,  perhaps,  they  had  imagined  themselves  with 
friends,  dear  friends,  at  home.  It  was  a  happy 
fancy  that  had  stolen  the  captive  from  his  cell  and 
placed  him  beside  hearts  that  loved  and  welcomed 
him ;  but,  alas !  the  bright  vision  has  died.  The 
first  stroke  of  that  hated  bell,  knelled  its  departure. 
And  now  the  business  of  the  toilet  is,  completed, 
perhaps  not  always  in  taste  to  suit  the  fastidious, 
but  no  matter.  A  few  moments  are  left  before 
marching;  some  spend  them  gloomily  standing  or 
sitting  on  the  side  of  their  couch,  thinking  bitterly 


PICTURE    OP   PRISON    LIFE.  49 

of  the  past,  and  inwardly  forming  new  plans  of 
mischief  or  of  crime.  Some  are  sorrowfully  con- 
trasting the  days  of  innocence  and  happiness  with 
these  days  of  guilt  and  misery.  Here  and  there 
one  lies  upon  the  cold  stone  floor  and  with  uplifted 
heart,  weeps  over  his  sins,  "  the  remembrance  of 
which  is  grievous  to  him."  On  the  placid  counte- 
nance of  another  may  be  seen  the  indications  of  a 
heart  at  peace  with  God  and  man.  Listen  to  his 
prayer  as  his  lips  move  in  whispers,  "  0  Lord,  I  will 
praise  Thee,  for,  though  Thou  wast  angry  with  me, 
thine  anger  is  turned  away,  and  Thou  comfortest 
me."  He  rises  slowly  from  his  knees,  and  from 
that  small,  rough  shelf  takes  down  the  blessed 
volume  and  opens  it.  Now  listen  again :  "  There  is 
therefore,  now  no  condemnation  to  those  that  are 
in  Christ  Jesus,  who  walk  not  after  the  flesh  but 
after  the  Spirit."  "For  the  law  of  the  spirit  of  life 
in  Christ  Jesus  hath  made  me  free  from  the  law  of 
sin  and  death."  A  moment  is  yet  left ;  he  opens  his 
hymn  book  and  reads, 

"  While  blest  with  a  sense  of  his  love, 

A  palace  a  toy  would  appear. 
And  prisons  would  palaces  prove 
If  Jesus  would  dwell  with  me  there." 

The  bell  strikes ;  each  man  steps  from  his  cell  to 
5 


50  PEISON  KEMINISCENCES. 

the  platform  in  front  of  the  cell,  and,  at  the  given 
signal,  moves  away — tramp,  tramp,  tramp,  the  so 
called  lock  step,  and,  in  divisions  of  some  twenty, 
they  make  their  way  to  their  worshops.  There  for 
the  day  no  eye  is  raised  to  meet  the  eye  of  another 
convict,  or  officer,  or  visitor.  No  word  is  uttered 
but  to  convey  the  few  needful  directions  of  the  over- 
seers of  the  work.  Again  the  bell ;  it  is  noon.  In 
an  instant  all  leave  work  and  fall  into  line,  marching 
in  as  they  marched  out.  In  passing  the  cook  room, 
each  man  takes  his  food  from  a  shelf,  without  leaving 
the  rank,  and  the  division  passes  on  to  the  platform 
when  each  steps  into  his  cell,  closing  the  door  which 
is  self  locked. 

The  coarse,  but  nutritive  meal  is  soon  finished ;  a 
short  time  remains  for  rest,  and  off  again  to  the 
shops  to  resume  the  work  of  the  morning —  slowly 
pass  the  hours,  but  night  comes. 

How  different  the  circumstances  of  the  closing 
day  from  those  of  former  days.  Then  labor  wea- 
ried and  exhausted  the  body,  but 

"  With  joy  the  man,  his  daily  labor  done, 
Saw  the  broad  shadows  and  the  setting  sun." 

For  there  was  a  home — humble  and  unadorned,  to 
be  sure  —  but  a  home.  And  there  were  hearts 
that  loved  him,  and  voices  that  greeted  him,  and 


PICTUKE    OF    PRISON   LIFE.  51 

faces  that  smiled  upon  him.  But  now  —  poor 
man  —  march  on  to  thy  nightly  rest;  but  thy 
mother  shall  not  take  thy  hand  and  bless  her 
weary  boy.  March  on,  man,  but 

"  For  thee,  alas !  no  blazing  fire  doth  bum, 

Nor  busy  housewife  ply  her  evening  care, 
Nor  children  run  to  greet  their  sire's  return, 
And  climb  his  knees  the  envied  kiss  to  share." 

That  home  is  now  desolate,  but  more  desolate  that 
more  than  widowed  heart  that  still  clings  to  the 
loved  and  lost. 

Those  little  ones  who  faintly  and  yet  fondly 
remember  a  father,  are  scattered  abroad.  They 
can  recollect  how  father  once  came  home  and  did 
not  smile  or  speak ;  how  dear  mother  wept ;  how 
strong  men  came,  strangers,  and  looking  stern  and 
hard,  how  they  bound  poor  father's  hands  and  led 
him  off.  This,  like  a  hateful  dream,  still  haunts 
the  young  mind.  And  all  this  is  now  passing  in  terri- 
ble review  before  the  mind  of  that  man  who  marches 
to  his  cell.  May  the  faithful  God  of  love  send  his 
spirit  there  to  soothe  thy  heart,  thou  man  of  guilt 
and  grief;  and  in  years  to  come  may  thy  voice  be 
heard  to  utter  as  experience :  "  It  is  good  for  me 
that  I  have  been  afflicted,  for  before  I  was  afflicted 
I  went  astray,  but  now  have  I  learned  to  keep  thy 
precepts." 


52  PRISON   REMINISCENCES. 

The  hall  is  well  lighted  with  gas,  and  an  excel- 
lent book  from  the  library,  with  a  chapter  or  two 
from  "  the  Book"  occupies  the  attention,  soothes 
the  feelings,  and  improves  the  heart.  And  yet  how 
many  sleepless  nights  are  there  passed.  The 
mind  wanders  to  past  scenes  of  innocent  engage- 
ments, to  friends  still  dear,  though  years,  long,  sad 
years  have  intervened  since  meeting;  while  with 
others,  there  is  the  presence  of  guilt  resting  heav- 
ily on  the  soul.  The  remembrance  of  past  life,  a 
life  of  transgression,  harrows  up  the  feelings  and 
makes  night  terrible. 

Slowly  and  with  silent  tread  the  watchman  passes 
his  accustomed  rounds,  and  the  hours  pass  on  until 
at  early  dawn  the  business  —  the  wearying  monot- 
onous business  of  another  day  begins.  Here  are 
no  cheering  days  of  relaxation,  no  holidays  for 
amusement,  no  fine  excursions  to  mountains  or  to 
lakes,  to  mineral  springs,  or  sea-side  j  no  agree- 
able fireside  conversation  to  beguile  the  tedious- 
ness  of  a  "  winter's  night  or  summer's  day."  It  is 
work,  work,  work;  and  all  without  the  usual  agree 
able  stimulant,  remuneration,  or  the  agreeable  ac 
companiments  of  labor. 

How  do  the  convicts  appear,  and  how  do  you 
manage  to  gain  and  keep  their  confidence  and  love  ? 
There  is  with  young  offenders  generally,  an  indica. 


PICTUEE   OP   PRISON  LIFE.  53 

tion  of  extreme  sadness  and  shame,  and  with  the 
old,  of  sullenness  and  suspicion.  On  my  first  visit 
they  were  generally  found  either  covered  up  in 
their  couch  or  sitting  at  the  farther  end  of  their  cell. 
The  voice  of  kindly  greeting  falls  strangely  on  their 
ear.  They  have  been  fugitives  from  justice,  pur- 
sued and  hunted  down,  caught,  ironed,  thrust  into 
jail,  and  brought  through  all  the  stages  •  of  their 
trial,  followed  through  the  streets  by  mobs  of  men 
and  boys,  and  heard  but  little  said  of  themselves 
or  to  themselves  of  a  very  flattering  character,  or 
in  very  kind  terms.  From  the  court  they  come  to 
the  prison,  stared  and  gazed  at,  as  so  many  con- 
quered beasts  of  prey;  and  no  one  comes  and 
speaks  pleasantly  and  kindly,  inquiring  after  their 
welfare. 

Many  of  these  men  had  been  accustomed  to  de- 
spise religion  and  hate  ministers.  It  generally  re- 
quires two  or  three  visits  to  gain  the  friendly  at- 
tention of  such,  but  it  is  surprising  how  soon  even 
they  will  learn  to  reciprocate  true  kindness.  The 
footsteps  of  the  chaplain  are  soon  distinguished, 
and  they  are  at  the  door,  ready  to  welcome  him. 

Few,  very  few  withhold  their  confidence,  or  fail 

to    exhibit    proofs    of    affectionate     attachment. 

Nearly  all  confide  all  the  secrets  of  past  life  to  the 

chaplain,  unsolicited  by  him,  and  this  attachment 

5* 


54  PRISON    REMINISCENCES. 

continues  often  after  their  liberation.  Often  when 
visiting  in  various  sections  of  the  country,  will  a 
man  come  quietly  by  my  side,  silently  grasp  my 
hand,  and  whisper  in  my  ear,  "Do  you  not  know 
me?  it  is  A.  B.,  once  'inside,'  you  know."  ("  In- 
side," and  "  outside "  are  prison  terms,  and  are 
more  convenient,  and  also  sound  better  than  "  in 
prison,"  or  "  out  of  prison.")  Such  interviews  are 
often  very  affecting,  and  the  hearty  "  farewell,  God 
bless  you,"  often  raises  the  question  in  the  sur- 
rounding crowd,  of  an  acquaintance  or  perhaps  re- 
lationship. 

The  few  minutes  allowed  each  convict  for  con- 
versation with  the  Chaplain  are  highly  prized,  and 
generally  well  improved.  Inquiries  are  made  re- 
specting the  Sabbath  School  lesson,  the  sermon  or 
some  passage  of  scripture  not  well  understood. 
Some  of  the  more  intelligent  wish  to  discuss  the 
merits  of  some  interesting  book  they  have  read 
during  the  week,  or  the  sermon  preached  by  the 
stranger  preacher  who  last  addressed  them.  Then 
the  sad*  ones  are  to  be  comforted  —  the  inquirers 
to  be  enlightened  —  the  sick  to  be  pitied  and 
prayed  for,  and  a  word  of  encouragement  and  a 
look  of  kindness  for  them  all. 

After  the  Sabbath  School  and  religious  services, 
the  remainder  of  the  Sabbath  is  devoted  to  the 


PICTURE    OF    PRISON    LIFE.  65 

above  named  duties  in  connection  with  changing 
their  books.  This,  by  the  way,  is  no  small  item 
in  the  account,  for  much  time  and  pains  are  needed 
to  suit  the  wants  or  tastes  of  all,  so  that  each  may 
find  agreeable  and  profitable  reading  for  the  week. 
From  a  small  beginning,  the  library  has  now  become 
one  of  much  value,  numbering  some  nine  hundred 
volumes.  Besides  these,  a  Bible,  and  book  of  Ele- 
mentary Instruction,  are  furnished,  also  to  each 
man  attending  Sabbath  School,  a  Question  Book, 
and  copy  of  "  Malcom's  Bible  Dictionary."  The 
library  is  a  judicious  selection  of  books  of  all  the 
various  branches,  Theology,  Biography,  Travels, 
Poetry  and  Miscellaneous. 

About  one  in  eight  of  all  the  convicts  on 
entering  prison  cannot  read  or  write,  but  most  of 
them  set  about  learning  soon,  and  in  earnest,  and 
very  few  go  from  prison  unable  to  read  the  Bible ; 
and  having  no  amusements,  and  plenty  of  time, 
most  of  them  become  great  readers.  Pass  through 
the  hall  at  any  time  when  the  men  are  in,  and  you 
will  find  nearly  every  man  with  his  open  book; 
converse  with  them,  and  you  will  find  that  they 
are  understanding  what  they  read.  Copy  books, 
are  supplied  for  all  who  wish  them,  and  also  slates. 
Many  of  them  study  with  much  interest  Chemistry, 
Natural  and  Moral  Philosophy,  Logic,  Rhetoric, 


56  PRISON   REMINISCENCES. 

&c.  All  this,  added  to  a  good  trade  acquired 
•while  in  prison,  has  contributed  to  send  forth  many 
a  convict  a  wiser  and  a  better  man. 

They  must  be  very  happy  when  the  day  of  re- 
lease comes,  you  are  thinking.  Doubtless  with  all 
there  is  a  gladness  to  see  the  opening  of  the  prison 
doors,  and  to  feel  that  they  are  free  to  walk  forth 
into  the  bright  sunlight,-  and  breathe  the  sweet 
breath  of  heaven.  But  there  is  another  view  of 
the  subject,  which  the  poor  man  is  compelled  to 
take.  "  0,  could  I  go  home  with  a  reputation  un- 
stained, could  I  meet  my  old  acquaintances  as  for- 
merly, could  I  walk  the  streets  of  my  native  vil- 
lage erect,  and  conscious  that  I  engaged  the  entire 
confidence  of  my  old  neighbors,  then  liberty  would 
be  really  invaluable,  but  this  cannot  be." 

"  Some  will  openly  insult  me  and  spurn  me  from 
their  society.  Others  will  treat  me  with  cold  civ- 
ility, a  few  will  pity  me,  and  even  their  tears  will 
distress  me.  If  I  go  to  other  parts,  I  am  no  sooner 
there  than  some  familiar  face  stares  upon  me.  If 
a  thousand  miles  from  my  prison  home,  I  commence 
business  and  begin  to  prosper,  some  ill  wind  wafts 
a  man  to  that  far  off  place  who  kindly  informs  the 
people  of  the  place  '  that  man  has  been  in  the  State 
Prison.'  The  fatal  announcement  is  the  death-knell 
to  my  prosperity  in  that  place."  Thus  even  the 


PICTURE    OP    PRISON    LIFE.  67 

day  of  liberty  forces  upon  the  mind  of  the  thought- 
ful man  a  sense  of  his  degradation,  and  he  feels  it 
more  acutely  than  when  in  company  with  those 
who  were  his  companions  in  guilt.  Often  do  they 
sit  down  and  weep  bitterly,  and  seem  irresolute 
and  undetermined  where  to  go  or  what  to  do. 

No,  the  day  of  liberation  is  not,  to  the  thoughtful 
man,  a  day  of  exultation.  Often  have  I  seen  the 
tear,  and  heard  the  sigh  that  told  the  sorrow  of 
the  heart  of  one,  who,  though  no  longer  in  prison, 
was  departing  with  the  consciousness  that  earth 
had,  to  a  great  extent,  lost  its  charms  to  him,  and 
that  henceforth,  aside  from  the  mercy  of  God  and 
the  pity  of  good  men,  he  had  but  little  to  hope  for. 


58  PEISON   REMINISCENCES. 


CHAPTER  V. 

CATHOLIC    CONVICTS. 

ABOUT  one  eighth  of  the  convicts,  on  an  average, 
for  the  last  nine  years,  have  been  Catholics.  The 
question  is  often  asked  whether  anything  can  be 
done  for  their  benefit,  or  whether  their  prejudices 
of  education  do  not  prevent  their  profiting  from 
any  instruction  imparted  by  a  Protestant.  To 
Catholic  or  Protestant  who  may  chance  to  read 
these  pages,  I  will  speak  truly  in  answer  to  this 
question. 

In  the  first  place,  I  have  endeavored  to  instruct 
such  of  them  as  are  ignorant,  to  read,  spell,  and 
write.  More  than  one-half  I  think,  from  year  to  year 
are  of  this  class ;  and  I  find  than  nearly  all  are 
willing  to  undertake,  and  most  of  them  are  capable 
of  learning  with  considerable  alacrity.  The  Bible 
is  put  into  the  cell  of  every  prisoner  and  is  much 
read  by  most  of  them.  But  few  of  the  Catholics 
have  any  knowledge  of  either  their  own  or  the 
Protestant  versions.  I  do  not  mean  that  they  have 
no  knowledge  of  the  things  taught  in  the  Book  of 


CATHOLIC   CONVICTS.  59 

God,  for  with  much  of  tradition  and  superstition, 
there  is  also  much  scripture  truth  communicated  to 
the  Catholics  through  their  liturgies,  and  other  meth- 
ods of  instruction.  But  I  cannot  recollect  of  more 
than  three  or  four  who  had  ever  read  either  version 
of  the  blessed  volume,  and  but  one,  who  brought  a 
Catholic  Bible  with  him  to  the  prison.  He  was  a 
well  educated  man,  brought  up  by  a  most  excellent 
mother,  who,  though  a  Catholic,  is  in  my  judg- 
ment, a  sincere  and  devout  Christian.  This  man, 
to  the  end  of  his  confinment,  adhered  zealously  to 
his  faith,  and  was  very  eager  to  defend  it.  There 
were  undoubtedly  others,  who  at  heart  remained 
more  or  less  attached  to  that  church,  but  manifested 
no  prejudice  against  other  religious  denominations. 
Several  of  them  have  told  me  that  on  finding  a 
Protestant  Bible  in  their  cell,  they  avoided  it  with 
a  superstitious  hatred,  and  for  days,  perhaps  for 
weeks,  it  lay  unopened.  But  at  length  this  feeling 
wore  off,  and  motives  of  curiosity  impelled  them 
to  take  up  the  book  and  read. 

The  Catholic  convict  is  always  respectful  in  his 
deportment  to  all  the  officers,  and  especially  so  to- 
wards the  Chaplain.  In  this  he  is  an  example  to 
the  Protestant.  He  may  be  suspicious  of^the 
character  of  our  religion,  but  will  never  be  guilty 
of  disrespect,  or  even  of  inattention  to  the 
teacher. 


60  PKISON   REMINISCENCES. 

As  with  all  others,  I  sought  first  to  show  them 
that  their  own  good  was  to  be  promoted  in  their 
imprisonment,  and  especially  in  the  intellectual 
and  religious  instruction  imparted  to  them.  As 
our  acquaintance  improved,  the  subject  of  religion 
was  of  course  more  directly  introduced.  Believ- 
ing as  I  do  that  the  best  method" is  to  show  to 
such  as  are  in  error,  a  more  excellent  way,  I  en- 
deavored to  teach  and  impress  the  mind  with  the 
great  essential  truths  of  religion,  and  more  especi- 
ally the  necessity  of*  coming  to  God  through  Jesus 
our  only  mediator ;  of  seeking  directly,  every  one 
for  himself,  for  pardon,  salvation,  and  eternal  life  ', 
and  of  searching  the  scriptures,  that  each  might 
know  the  way.  I  made  no  attack  on  "  the  Church,'1 
but  urging  the  important  doctrine  and  duties 
above  named,  and  exhorting  them  from  Sabbath  to 
Sabbath,  each  man  to  give  diligence  to  make  his 
calling  and  election  sure,  waited  for  these  instruc- 
tions and  exhortations  to  produce  their  results. 
Of  course  in  a  short  time  there  would  be  an  anxiety 
to  converse  on  some  points  of  disagreement  be- 
tween the  sentiments  of  the  Bible  and  the  teachings 
of  the  priesthood,  as  also  the  various  points  of 
difference  between  Protestants  and  Catholics.  I 
always  aimed  to  deal  frankly  and  with  perfect  hon- 
esty in  all  such  conversations.  Though  I  never  in- 


CATHOLIC   CONVICTS.  61 

dulge  in  harsh  and  uncharitable  terms,  yet  I  told  to 
them  plainly  and  honestly,  the  difference  between 
the  Protestant  and  Catholic  versions  of  the  Bible, 
and  said  to  them,  "  If  you  are  not  satisfied  I  will 
procure  you  a  copy  of  the  '  Douay,'  provided  you 
will  read  it  with  proper  attention."  I  have  gener- 
ally found  the  Catholics  the  most  attentive  readers 
of  the  Bible.  And  let  me  here  bear  testimony  to 
the  transcendent  power  of  that  Book  not  only  to 
reach  the  heart  and  sound  the  depth  of  the  unbeliv- 
ing  soul,  but  also  to  overthrow  erroneous  and  false 
doctrines,  and  lead  into  all  truth.  As  one  brought  up 
to  revere  the  Holy  Volume,  and  to  look  to  it  with 
certain  confidence  in  its  inspiration,  I  had  always 
believed  in  its  efficacy  to  save  the  soul. 

The  son  of  a  mother  who  from  a  child  had 
known  the  scriptures,  who  had  them  substantially 
imprinted  on  her  memory,  and  who,  when  infirm 
and  blind,  had  such  an  undying  attachment  to  God's 
truth  as  to  keep  it  where  she  could  lay  her  hands 
upon  it, —  a  mother  whose  whole  life  was  a  beauti- 
ful comment  on  the  faithfulness  and  purity  and  love 
there  taught,  —  I  say  the  son  of  such  a  mother 
could  but  revere  that  "Book  of  Books."  But 
never  did  I  see  its  power  to  correct  false  views  of 
religion  as  among  that  people.  Could  I  be  a  con- 
scientious Catholic  priest,  and  believe  that  there 
6 


62  PRISON   REMINISCENCES. 

could  be  no  salvation  out  of  that  church,  I  should 
dread  the  influence  of  the  Bible  more  than  all  other 
influences.  Instead  of  burning  heretics,  I  would 
direct  my  attention  to  the  book  that  so  effectually 
teaches  the  heresy.  While  the  Bible  is  abroad 
in  the  world,  there  is  no  safety  for  Catholicism. 
A  convict  having  read  this  blessed  word  of  truth  a 
few  weeks,  asks,  "  Why  do  our  priests  keep  this 
book  from  us  ?  I  can  see  nothing  here  of  a  bad 
tendency,  nothing  to  make  a  man  the  worse  Chris- 
ian,  or  citizen,  or  husband,  or  father,  or  sou."  He 
reads  on,  and  again  asks,  "Why  do  not  our 
priests  give  us  this  book  ?  "  I  never  found  any- 
thing that  reached  my  heart  like  this ;  it  is  just 
what  /  want — just  what  it  seems  to  me  every  one 
wants."  I  reply  to  such  questions,  "  read  on." 
Here  is  the  book ;  God,  in  his  providence  has  placed 
it  in  your  hands  ;  his  Spirit  indited  it;  go  and 
read — read  and  pray — pray  and  meditate.  Let 
no  man,  no  Catholic,  no  Protestant  dogmas  divert 
you  from  that  work.  Above  you,  and  yet  always 
near  you,  is  "  the  God  with  whom  you  have  to  do." 
To  Him,  and  Him  alone,  are  you  responsible.  The 
whole  matter  lies  between  Him  and  yourself.  He 
is  the  "  true  Shepherd,"  find  your  way  as  a  lost 
sheep  back  to  Him.  Read  and  remember  there  is 
one  God,  and  one  mediator  between  him  and  guilty 


CATHOLIC    CONVICTS.  63 

man.  With  steady  eye,  and  undivided  attention, 
and  unshaken  purpose  seek  through  that  Mediator 
to  find  your  way  to  the  Father.  Here  I  rest  the 
whole  matter.  I  am  not  careful  to  express  all  my 
views  of  the  Church  of  Rome,  though  I  always,  as 
I  am  able  give  reasons  for  my  Protestant  faith. 
But  I  wish  to  induce  that  frame  of  mind,  in  which 
God  may  speak  to  the  erring,  and  awaken  a 
serious  inquiry,  "  What  is  truth  ?  "  My  opinions 
can  have  but  little  influence,  and  I  choose  that  God 
may,  utter  his  voice.  I  am  quite  content  to  abide 
the  issue  if  the  man  will  read  his  Bible,  cherish 
the  Divine  Spirit  in  its  visits  to  the  soul,  and  hon- 
estly and  earnestly  pray  to  God.  The  affectionate 
intercourse  of  the  Chaplain,  his  faithful  conversa- 
tion, and  fervent  prayers,  and  occasional  aid  in  re- 
moving any  seeming  difficulties  or  apparent  dis- 
crepancies in  the  Bible ;  all  this  is  undoubtedly  to 
be  prized.  But  after  all,  these  are  but  of  secondary 
importance. 

There  is  in  this  manner  of  dealing  with  Catholics, 
something  so  fair  and  frank,  something  that  so  com- 
mends itself  to  the  man's  good  sense,  something  so 
strikingly  in  contrast  with  all  the  teachings  and  in- 
struction to  which  he  has  been  accustomed,  that  a 
most  favorable  impression  is  the  result.  If,  added 
to  this,  he  sees  the  spirit  of  true  Christianity,  ex- 


64  PRISON    REMINISCENCES. 

emplified  in  the  life  of  such  as  profess  the  Protest- 
ant religion,  there  needs  no  controversy  to  deter- 
mine the  result. 

I  could  give  several  instances  of  the  efficacy  of 
this  method  of  benefitting  such  men.  One,  the 
reader  will  find  in  the  case  of  "  Thomas  Carr"  in 
another  chapter  of  this  book.  I  will  mention  only 
one  other :  a  man,  whose  name  perhaps  I  had  bet- 
ter withhold,  some  twenty-four  years  of  age  was  a 
few  years  since  brought  to  our  prison  for  the  al- 
leged attempt  to  abuse  a  female.  The  affair  hap- 
pened at  an  Irish  drinking  party,  and  whether  any 
one  was  really  insulted,  or  if  so,  whether  poor 

C was  the  offender,  no  one  knows,  or  ever 

will  know.  C.  was  one  of  the  few  Irish  laborers 
who  have  been  favored  with  the  means  of  educa- 
tion. He  would  be  marked  a  medium  scholar  in 
one  of  our  New  England  schools.  His  father  died 
leaving  him  when  quite  young  to  the  care  of  an  ex- 
cellent mother,  who  spared  no  pains  or  expense 
within  her  means  to  benefit  her  son.  Not  only  did 
she  send  him  constantly  to  the  parish  school,  but 
spent  much  time  and  labor  to  help  on  his  educa- 
tion. 

At  the  same  time  she  was  greatly  anxious  to  im- 
press his  mind  with  religious  truth.  She  conversed 
with  him  privately,  read  to  him  often  from  her  Bi- 


CATHOLIC   CONVICTS.  65 

ble  of  the  love  and  sufferings  of  Jesus,  and  other 
interesting  portions  of  the  Sacred  Writings,  and 
then  kneeling  down  with  him  commended  him  to 
God  in  solemn  prayer.  From  the  history  of  this 
woman,  as  given  by  her  son,  I  have  no  doubt  she 
was  one  of  the  most  devoted  of  Christians.  She  in- 
sisted on  keeping  and  reading  her  Bible,  and  from 
many  of  her  remarks  which  have  been  repeated  to 
me  by  C.,  I  believe  she  was  one  who  held  daily 
and  intimate  communion  with  God,  and  whose 
whole  soul  was  fully  consecrated  to'  Christ  and  His 
cause.  And  who  can  doubt  that  there  are  such  con- 
secrated souls  scattered  among  the  millions  of  that 
church ;  keeping  themselves  pure,  "  fearing  God 
and  working  righteousness  "  according  to  their  best 
light,  and  being  accepted  of  Him,  in  spite  of  the 
corrupting  influence  of  the  "  priestly  intervention," 
and  kindred  errors,  and  assisted  by  such  great 
fundamental  truths  as  are  taught  in  that  church, 
and  through  the  Divine  influence  granted  all  who 
sincerely  seek  after  the  truth.  I  am  happy  to  be- 
lieve a  great  multitude  will  come  up  at  the  last  day 
from  the  ranks  of  that  church,  whom  God  will  ac- 
knowledge as  His  people.  I  am  the  more  confirmed 
in  this,  by  an  acquaintance  with  the  "  Life  and 
writings  of  the  Marquis  de  Renty,"  Thomas  a  Kem- 
pis,  Madame  Guyon,  and  others  who  lived  and 


66  PRISON   REMINISCENCES. 

died  in  that  communion.  Souls  more  truly  sanc- 
tified to  God,  never  passed  away  from  earth  to 
heaven. 

The  impressions  made  on  the  youthful  mind  of 
C.,  by  the  faithful  labors  of  his  mother  were  very 
strong.  Often,  said  he,  did  I  weep  profusely  over  my 
sins,  as  I  thought  of  my  Redeemer's  sufferings,  and 
often  felt  a  degree  of  peace  and  confidence.  At 
length  by  the  marriage  of  the  mother  with  a  very 
unworthy  man,  their  little  paradise  was  destroyed, 
and  all  that  had  made  life  so  pleasant  was  inter- 
rupted. That  husband  was  a  drunkard,  and 
very  abusive.  The  son  could  not  see  his  good 
mother  suffer  abuse  without  interference,  and  the 
base  man  drove  him  from  her. 

A  homeless  wanderer,  the  poor  unhappy  boy  for 
a  while  retained  his  religious  impressions.  The 
recollections  of  mother,  and  home,  and  the  Bible, 
and  those  seasons  of  blessed  instruction  and  prayer 
kept  him  from  evil.  But  temptations  arose,  many 
and  strong.  Little  by  little  he  yielded  to  them, 
and  especially  that  almost  universal  propensity 
among  the  Irish,  the  use  of  intoxicating  liquors. 
Social,  generous,  intelligent,  he  was  sought  as  a 
companion  in  all  the  circles  of  his  countrymen,  and 
at  length  his  early  religious  training  ceased  to  re- 
strain. Not  that  he  was  an  abandoned  sinner ;  his 


CATHOLIC    CONVICTS.  67 

one  vice  was  intemperance,  and  that  only  on  great 
occasions,  as  fairs,  or  wakes,  or  holydays.  It 
was  in  this  way,  as  I  have  before  stated,  that  he 
became  charged  with  crime.  The  sight  of  a  Pro- 
testant Bible  in  his  cell,  and  the  idea  of  being  shut 
up  with  it,  was  to  him  quite  repulsive.  He  had 
supposed  that  the  Protestant  and  Catholic  versions 
were  no  more  alike,  than  the  writings  of  Joe 
Smith,  and  the  Apostle  Paul.  For  a  long  time  the 
book  lay  unopened  on  his  shelf,  but  he  was  very 
unhappy.  Memory  tormented  him.  The  past  was 
always  reproaching  him ;  God  in  heaven  seemed 
to  frown  upon  him ;  hell  from  beneath  to  await 
his  coming,  and  earth  was  utterly  void  of  good  for 
him. 

Slowly  at  last,  and  with  some  misgivings,  he 
raised  his  hand  and  took  the  volume  and  read. 
How  great  was  his  surprise  to  find,  that  page  after 
page  taught  no  other  doctrine  than  that  taught  in 
his  mother's  Bible.  He  read  of  the  same  God, — 
of  the  same  Jesus, —  and  of  the  same  duties,  re- 
sponsibilities, promises,  and  warnings.  His  mind 
was  at  once  made  up  to  converse  freely  with  the 
Chaplain,  and  to  make  known  his  state  of  mind. 
It  wad  easy  to  convince  him  that  he  was  lost  and 
undone  without  a  Saviour,  but  not  so  easy  for  him 
to  learn  the  simple  way  to  Christ.  His  sinful  hab- 


68  PRISON    REMINISCENCES. 

its  had  operated  to  darken  and  confuse  his  mind, 
and  unfit  him  for  the  carrying  out  of  a  steady  pur- 
pose to  throw  himself  on  the  Divine  mercy.  And 
his  old  superstitions  still  clung  to  him ;  so  that 
while  his  judgment,  enlightened  by  scripture,  de- 
cided on  their  falsity,  they  still  retained  a  hold  on 
him,  of  which  he  was  hardly  aware.  He  longed 
for  spiritual  liberty,  but  for  some  time  sought  it  in 
vain.  This  state  is  forcibly  described  by  that  em- 
inent Christian  poet,  Rev.  Charles  Wesley : — 


"  My  Saviour  bids  me  come ; 
Ah,  why  do  I  delay ; 
He  calls  the  weary  sinner  home, 
And  yet  from  Him  I  stay. 
What  is  it  keeps  me  back, 
From  which  I  cannot  part; 
Which  will  not  let  the  Saviour  take 
Possession  of  my  heart?  " 


The  matter  was  made  plain  to  him  at  last,  and 
singularly  enough  too,  in  a  manner  which  I  will 
now  relate,  as  he  gave  it  to  me.  "  I  lay  down  at 
night,"  said  he,  "  after  reading  and  praying  long 
and  earnestly,  and  endeavoring  to  search  out  the 
hindrance  to  my  deliverance  from  sin.  I  pondered 
over  the  subject,  but  could  get  no  light,  and 
wept  most  bitterly.  Weared  out,  at  length  I  fell 
asleep,  and  dreamed  you  came  in,  walking  with  an 


CATHOLIC   CONVICTS.  69 

uncommonly  light  and  bouyant  step,  and  coming 
quickly  up  to  me  as  I  stood  in  tears  said,  C.,  here 
is  something  for  you,  holding  out  to  me  a  new  shirt 
of  the  most  beautiful  material  I  had  ever  seen. 
This  shall  be  yours  if  you  will  accept  it.  Over- 
whelmed with  gratitude,  I  hardly  knew  what  to  do 
or  what  to  think,  but  finally  took  the  garment.  You 
said  to  me,  put  it  on,  otherwise  you  cannot  have  it. 
I  immediately  attempted  to  do  so,  but  found  it  a 
most  difficult  matter  to  accomplish.  After  repeated 
unsuccessful  attempts  I  began  to  despair,  when  you 
spoke  to  me  and  said,  C.,  what  are  you  trying  to 
do  ?  To  put  on  that  beautiful  shirt  you  gave  me. 
"What !  over  your  old  one  ?  I  looked  at  my  old 
prison  garment,  and  0,  how  ragged  and  filthy. 
Never  did  I  see  it  look  half  so  bad  before.  In 
great  disgust  I  laid  hold  of  it,  tearing  it  from 
me  and  throwing  it  as  far  from  me  as  I  could.  I 
then  with  the  most  perfect  ease  threw  on  the  new 
one,  which  seemed  almost  of  itself  to  take  the 
place  of  the  old  one.  I  looked  at  the  new  gar- 
ment, fitting  most  perfectly  and  of  the  most  beau- 
tiful texture  and  whiteness,  and  such  was  my  joy 
that  I  sprang  to  my  feet,  and  was  at  once  wide 
awake. 

"  And  now  all  was  made  plain.     I  needed  no  one 
to  explain  or  comment  on  instruction  thus  commu- 


70  PRISON    REMINISCENCES. 

nicated  by  Him  who  '  speaketh  to  man  by  dreams 
and  visions  of  the  night,  that  he  may  keep  back 
his  soul  from  death.'  I  saw  the  whole,  and  look- 
ing up  to  God,  made  the  surrender  required,  quit- 
ting, as  I  trust,  forever,  my  dependence  for  salva- 
tion on  all  others,  and  accepting  Jesus.  Instantly 
I  was  filled  with  '  peace  in  believing,  and  joy  in 
the  Holy  Ghost,'  and  my  whole  soul  adored  the 
1  riches  of  his  grace.'  " 

In  this  frame  I  found  him  on  the  morning  of  a 
beautiful  Sabbath.  A  more  joyous  countenance  I 
never  saw,  nor  have  I  often  heard  words  more  elo- 
quently describe  the  emotions  of  a  soul  on  fire.  The 
intelligent  reader  will  need  no  notes  by  way  of  ex- 
planation of  this  vision.  C.  had  perhaps  uncon- 
sciously trusted,  after  all  his  care  and  caution,  in 
part,  to  some  fragments  of  his  old  traditions,  and 
the  instruction  was  not  only  beneficial  in  that  hour 
but  was  his  directory  for  time  to  come.  I  know 
not  how  a  volume  of  Evangelical  sermons  could 
have  made  the  way  more  plain.  "  Vy  capitals" 
said  a  German  convict  to  whom  I  related  the  story, 
"  veil,  veil,  Neander  could  not  have  done  pettare." 
He  had  studied  under  that  great  and  good 
theologian. 

From  the  time  of  the  "  dream  of  the  shirt,"  0. 
has  gone  on  his  way  with  much  perseverance, 


CATHOLIC   CONVICTS.  71 

"  hungering  and  thirsting  after  righteousness." 
He  has  read  with  profit  the  writings  of  Dr.  Up- 
ham,  and  Wesley,  and  Fletcher,  as  well  as  the  Bi- 
ble, and  the  theme  of  inward  holiness  seems  more 
than  any  other  to  absorb  his  whole  soul.  He  is 
still  in  prison,  and  we  cannot  know  for  certainty 
how  he  may  conduct  himself  on  attaining  his  lib- 
erty, should  he  be  spared  to  hail  that  event ;  but  he 
gives  bright  promise  of  stability  and  usefulness. 


72  PRISON   REMINISCENCES. 

CHAPTER  VI. 

STATE   PRISON   RELIGION. 

"  I  DON'T  think  much  of  State  Prison  religion," 
said  a  learned  and  very  respectable  minister  of  the 
gospel  to  me  one  day.  Had  the  expression  fallen 
from  the  lips  of  one  of  the  multitude,  who  think 
lightly  of  religion  itself,  I  should  not  have  noticed 
it  at  all ;  for  such  entertain  precisely  the  same  opin- 
ion of  that  reverend  gentleman,  and  all  his  brethren 
in  the  ministry  and  laity.  And  the  skeptic  assigns 
the  same  reasons  for  his  opinion  that  the  above 
named  clergyman  did,  viz. :  "  I  knew  two  or  three 
of  them  who  professed  religion  in  prison,  and  on 
coming  out,  in  a  short  time  were  as  bad  as  ever." 
Now  I  do  not  doubt  the  good  brother's  knowledge 
of  these  instances  of  hypocrisy  or  apostacy,  but  I 
object  to  his  conclusion.  The  same  method  of 
reasoning  would  fully  sustain  the  skeptic  in  his 
conclusions  drawn  against  all  religion.  "  I  have 
known  two  or  three  ministers  who  became  wicked, 
therefore  I  don't  think  much  of  the  piety  of  minis- 
ters." As  I  pondered  over  that  expression,  I  was 
sad.  Is  it  so  ?  Is  there,  then,  no  hope  for  a  poor 


STATE   PRISON   BELIGION.  73 

sinner  in  prison?  Must  we  conclude  that  they 
who  pass  this  gate  can  never  in  any  wise  enter 
into  life  ? 

But  why  not  these  be  saved  as  well  as  other  sin- 
ners ?  Have  we  not  one  Father,  even  God  ?  0, 
but  they  are  so  wicked.  True,  but  "  as  I  live,  saith 
the  Lord  God,  I  have  no  pleasure  in  the  death  of 
the  wicked,  but  rather  that  he  turn  and  live ;"  and 
"  though  your  sins  be  as  scarlet,  they  shall  be  made 
whiter  than  snow."  "  Is  anything  too  hard  for 
the  Lord  ?  "  0,  Christian !  let  me  ask  whose 
prayer  was  the  last  that  fell  on  the  ear  of  the  dy- 
ing Saviour  ?  Faintly  he  heard  the  trembling  ac- 
cents of  a  poor  sinner's  prayer ;  and  that  sinner 
was  a  felon.  Who,  of  all  the  pardoned  throng  to 
whom  the  Saviour  spake  forgiveness,  was  the  last 
accepted  one  ?  A  convict.  Jesus  lingered  in  the 
pangs  of  his  crucifixion,  and  in  the  more  terrible 
agonies  of  a  soul  made  an  offering  for  sin,  that  he 
might  save  —  whom  ?  A  rich  sinner  ?  An  honora- 
ble sinner  ?  A  sinner  from  among  the  princes  ? 
0,  no  !  that  he  might  save  a  condemned  malefac- 
tor !  Blessed  Jesus !  thy  "  grace  aboundeth  to 
the  chief  of  sinners."  With  an  eye  fixed  on  Cal- 
vary, often  have  we  joined  in  our  prison  worship 
in  singing,  while  almost  every  convict  seemed  to 
melt  with  tenderness  — 
7 


74  PRISON   REMINISCENCES. 

"  0,  thou  who  hanged'st  on  a  tree, 

Our  guilt  and  suffering  to  remove, 
Pity  the  souls  who  look  to  thee, 
And  save  us  by  thy  dying  love. 

"  Numbered  among  transgressors  thou, 

Between  the  felons  crucified, 
Speak  to  our  hearts,  and  tell  us  now, 
Wherefore  hast  thou  for  sinners  died? 

"  For  its  wast  thou  not  lifted  up  ? 

For  us  a  willing  offering  made? 
That  we  —  the  objects  —  we  might  hope 
Thou  hast  for  us  a  ranson  paid. 

"  0 !  might  we,  with  believing  eyes, 
Thee  in  thy  bloody  vesture  see, 
And  cast  us  on  thy  sacrifice ! 
Jesus,  my  Lord,  remember  me." 

Never  will  these  seasons  be  forgotten,  by  me  at 
least.  To  see  scores  of  rough  men — men  long 
unaccustomed  to  weep  for  sin — subdued,  humbled 
before  God,  and  evidently  thinking  with  amaze- 
ment and  wonder  on  the  condescending  love  of 
Jesus,  —  to  see  this,  and  then  to  feel 

"  The  speechless  awe  that  dares  not  move, 
And  all  the  silent  heaven  of  love," 

this,  more  than  any  thing  I  ever  saw,  illustrated 
the  saying,  "  This  man  receiveth  sinners." 

One  of  these  prayer  meetings  is  alluded  to  in 
the  following  communication  made  to  the  editor  of 


STATE    PRISON   RELIGION.  75 

"Zion's  Herald,"  by  Rev.  Martin  C.'Briggs,  now 
president  of  the  "  University  of  the  Pacific,"  and 
published  in  that  excellent  paper,  February  20th, 
1850. 

«  While  I  was  in  Concord,  N.  H.,  Rev.  E.  Smith, 
Chaplain  of  the  New  Hampshire  State  Prison  hon- 
ored me  with  an  invitation  to  attend  a  prayer 
meeting  in  his  charge,  which  I  was' the  more  de- 
sirous to  do  on  account  of  having  some  old  acquaint- 
ances then  boarding  at  the  public  expense,  within 
its  walls — rather  a  suspicious  fact  to  confess  through 
the  medium  of  your  excellent  paper.  When  the 
prisoners  came  up  from  their  cells  into  the  prayer 
room,  it  was  not  easy  to  repress  the  conviction 
that  I  had  been  there  before." 

Mr.  Briggs  had  several  times  preached  to  the 
convicts  and  had  taught  some  of  them  in  our  Prison 
Sabbath  School.  To  this,  as  above  seen,  he  play- 
fully alludes. 

"  In  truth  it  was  good  to  be  there.  It  has  not 
often  been  my  happiness  to  attend  a  meeting  of 
equal  interest.  The  addresses  to  the  Father  were 
in  the  main,  intelligent,  fervent  and  humble ;  and 
some  gave  penetrating  evidence  of  deep  and  inti- 
mate communion  with  God.  The  thought  would 
suggest  itself,  that  it  might  be  well  to  send 
some  forth  to  bless,  by  their  example,  the  convicts 


76  PEISON   EEMINISCENCES. 

of  a  higher  tribunal,  without  the  circumvallations 
of  granite. 

"  Mr.  Smith,  notwithstanding  the  burden  of  en- 
feebled health,  has  surmounted  obstacles  in  the  dis- 
charge of  his  delicate  duties  as  Chaplain,  which 
few  men  are  bold  enough  to  encounter.  But  the 
cloud  appeared  at  length  on  the  horizon  of  assured 
hope  and  a  season  of  refreshing  came.  The  good 
seed  sprang  up  with  a  rapidity  of  growth  truly  as- 
tonishing and  greatly  to  the  praise  of  Him  who 
rewards  the  husbandman's  toil  with  waving 
harvests. 

"  Our  brother  now  numbers  about  twenty  in  his 
little  flock,  who  give  such  evidences  of  piety 
that  even  scoffers  at  inward  religion,  are  compelled 
to  admit  the  validity  of  the  change.  This  should 
afford  new  courage  to  those  who  '  preach  to  the 
spirits  in  prison.' " 

To  this  I  may  add  the  following  communication 
giving  an  account  of  a  religious  awakening  and 
revival,  in  a  State  penitentiary  during  the  present 
year. 

"  Protestant  Episcopal  Convention  for  Illinois  : 
"  This  body  held  its   session  in  Alton,  week  be- 
fore last.     The  proceedings  were   of  an  interest- 
ing character.     Among  other  items,  we  notice  the 


STATE   PRISON   RELIGION.  77 

following,  in  connection  with  the  State  peniten- 
tiary in  Alton. 

"  The  Convention  adjourned  at  an  early  hour  for 
the  purpose  of  proceeding  to  the  penitentiary  in 
order  to  be  present  at  the  administration  of  the 
solemn  rite  of  confirmation,  to  a  large  number  of 
the  convicts  who  have  manifested  a  deep  repentance 
for  their  sins,  for  some  months  past.  As  about  one 
half  of  them  had  never  been  baptised,  this  sacred 
ordinance  was  in  the  first  place  administered  to 
twenty-three  of  them,  by  Rev.  Dr.  McMasters, 
Chaplain  of  the  prison,  under  whose  ministrations 
they  have  been  brought  to  a  sense  of  their  guilt, 
followed  by  a  solemn  exhortation  from  the  same 
gentleman,  and  another  from  the  Rev.  Dr.  Arnett, 
of  Milwaukie. 

"  After  the  close  of  this  affecting  ceremony,  the 
Bishop  addressed  the  recipients,  for  the  space  of 
perhaps  fifteen  or  twenty  minutes,  in  one  of  the 
most  powerful  and  eloquent  exhortations  to  which 
it  has  ever  been  our  privilege  to  listen;  and  which 
we  are  pursuaded,  can  never  be  forgotten  by  any 
one  who  heard  it,  but  of  which,  we  feel  unable  to 
give  even  a  slight  sketch.  Suffice  it  to  observe 
that  the  strong  walls  and  barred  windows  of  the 
hall  in  which  the  rite  was  performed, — the  prisoners, 
nearly  all  of  whom  were  bathed  in  tears,  —  the 
7* 


78  PRISON   EEMINISCENCES. 

deep  and  sympathetic  emotion,  visible  in  the  coun- 
tenances of  the  members  of  the  Convention,  and 
other  spectators, —  the  solemn  and  earnest  language 
of  the  Bishop,  and  the  deep  tones  of  his  voice,  as 
he  briefly  alluded  to  the  past  lives,  the  present  con- 
dition, and  the  future  destiny  of  the  persons  to 
whom  he  was  speaking, — altogether,  formed  a  scene 
such  as  probably  never  before  has  been  witnessed 
in  the  United  States,  or  perhaps  in  any  other 
country,  and  which,  we  think  cannot  fail  to  make  a 
salutary  impression  not  only  upon  those  most 
interested  in  it,  but  also  upon  every  beholder." 

I  have  also  noticed  an  account  of  another  re- 
vival among  the  convicts  of  another  State  peniten- 
tiary, in  which  a  minister  of  the  Baptist  denomi- 
nation, baptized  a  large  number.  Of  the  expedi- 
ency of  administering  the  Christian  ordinance  to 
convicts,  while  in  prison,  I  have  not  been  fully  per- 
suaded ;  but  it  will  be  seen  that  others,  whom  I  am 
quite  willing  to  call  wiser  and  better  men,  have 
believed  it  right  and  duty.  "  Let  every  man  be 
fully  persuaded  in  his  own  mind."  With  all  this 
weight  of  evidence,  from  respectable  sources,  I 
have  but  little  to  add.  The  doubt  entertained  by 
many  as  to  the  religion  of  the  prisoners,  it  is  pre- 
sumed, does  not,  so  far  as  Christians  are  concerned, 
arise  from  any  want  of  confidence  in  the  goodness 


STATE   PRISON   RELIGION.  79 

of  God.  Such  cannot  doubt  the  love  of  our 
Heavenly  Father,  or  the  grace  of  our  Lord  Jesus 
toward  the  vilest  of  sinners,  and  would  be 
ashamed  to  preach  or  to  avow  any  other  sentiment. 
But  the  doubt  arises  from  the  improbability  that 
these  men,  so  long  accustomed  to  evil,  will  be  per- 
suaded to  seek  and  obey  the  Lord.  They  are  too 
ignorant  to  know,  or  too  depraved  to  embrace 
"  the  truth  as  it  is  in  Jesus." 

To  such  I  commend  the  arguments  they  them- 
selves employ  on  behalf  of  missions  to  the  Hot- 
tentots, Caribs,  and  other  of  the  more  degraded  of 
the  heathen.  I  know  that  many  of  the  converts 
are  ignorant,  but  I  know  too,  that  Jesus'  Gospel 
comes 

"  A  light  in  every  heart  to  shine." 

'•And  to  them  who  sit  in  darkness,  and  in  the  re- 
gion of  the  shadow  of  death,  has  great  light 
come."  It  has  been  abundantly  demonstrated  that 
the  Gospel  can  reach  the  heart  and  conscience  of 
the  sinner,  in  the  most  degraded  and  benighted 
condition,  and  that  the  idea  once  entertained  that 
such  must  first  be  civilized  and  then  Christianized, 
is  just  reversing  the  true  order  of  things.  "  Strike 
at  the  root !  aim  at  the  heart,"  is  the  true  Gospel 
method. 


80  PEISON   KEMINISCENCES. 

0,  let  the  poor  ignorant  man  know  that  there  is 
.One  above  him  who  cares  for  him;  tell  him  the 
simple  story  of  Calvary ;  fix  this  in  his  mind,  that 
"Jesus  loved  and  died  for  me,"  and  add  a  knowl- 
edge of  the  simple  truths  essential  to  a  man's  sal- 
vation, and  you  have  accomplished  more  than  if 
you  had  trained  his  intellect  to  the  highest  point 
ever  reached  by  man,  and  overlooked  the  heart. 
It  is  also  true  that  many  of  our  convicts  are  very 
wicked  men.  I  say  many,  for  there  are  some  who 
are  mere  children  in  years  as  well  as  knowedge ; 
and  others  are  not  guilty  of  rejecting  parental 
counsel,  and  sporting  with  the  tears  and  prayers 
of  a  father  and  a  mother,  and  trampling  on  the 
writhing  heart  of  a  pious  companion,  but  are  men 
whose  sins,  to  some  extent  at  least,  are  sins  of  ig- 
norance. Now  "  why  should  it  be  thought  by  you  a 
thing  incredible  that  God  should  raise  the  dead  ?  " 
should  bring  from  death  to  life  these  poor  men ;  or 
even  that  more  hardened  sinners  should  at  last 
yield  "  to  be  saved  by  grace." 

All  who  have  attended  our  religious  services, 
will,  I  doubt  not,  agree  with  me,  that  a  more  at- 
tentive and  interested  congregation  can  nowhere 
bo  found.  During  my  ministry  of  nine  years  in 
this  prison,  I  never  saw  an  indication  of  levity,  or 
an  instance  of  apparent  contempt  for  religious  or- 


STATE   PRISON   RELIGION.  81 

dinances.  The  convicts  hear  with  deep  and  earn- 
est attention,  and  often  with  tears.  I  am  convinced 
that  there  is  a  greater  amount  of  deep  and  con- 
scious feeling  on  religious  subjects  in  this,  than  in 
congregations  in  general.  And,  judging  by  what  is 
in  other  congregations  deemed  satisfactory  evi- 
dence, I  have  no  doubt  genuine  conversions  are 
frequent.  I  know  that  we  are  here  met  with  the 
suggestion,  that  this  is,  in  most  cases,  mere  pre- 
tence on  the  part  of  the  convict,  and  is  enacted 
with  the  hope  of  securing  favor,  and  perhaps  ulti- 
mate pardon.  To  this  I  desire  to  reply  more  at 
large. 

That  there  is  an  inducement  to  make  a  hypocrit- 
ical profession  of  religion,  I  allow;  but  this  induce- 
ment is,  I  think,  much  overrated.  I  have  never 
urged,  or  heard  urged  by  others,  the  piety  of  a 
convict,  as  an  argument  for  his  liberation. 

His  peaceable  and  orderly  habits  are  mentioned, 
but  never  his  religious  pretensions.  This  is  well 
known  to  the  convicts,  as  we  are  careful  to  present 
no  motives  to  induce  hypocrisy ;  and  this  objection 
would  lay  equally  against  the  piety  of  any  other  class 
of  persons.  No  one  will  deny  that  there  are  tempta- 
tions to  pretended  piety  everywhere.  Here  is  a 
mechanic,  for  instance,  living  in  a  village  where  the 
business  men  are  generally  members  of  some  influ- 


82  PEISON    REMINISCENCES. 

ential  church.  He  sees  that  one  of  his  calling 
who  belongs  to  that  church,  is  preferred,  in  most 
cases,  to  himself,  and  that  his  interest  would  be 
much  promoted  by  a  religious  profession,  and  a 
connection  with  that  prevailing  denomination. 
The  same  is  true  of  the  merchant,  the  lawyer,  the 
physician,  and  in  fact,  of  all  classes ;  not  even  ex- 
cepting the  immaculate  seeker  after  political  office. 
Now  it  is  to  be  hoped  few  become  members  of  a 
church,  from  such  base  and  unworthy  motives ;  but 
still  there  is  the  inducement,  as  well  as  in  the  case 
of  the  convict.  All  that  can  be  done  in  any  case 
is  to  acquaint  ourselves  intimately  with  the  pro- 
fessed experience  and  life  of  the  pretended  con- 
vert, and  decide  according  to  the  Divine  rule  "  By 
their  fruits  ye  shall  know  them." 

Now  as  to  the  convicts,  I  have  seldom  been  mis- 
taken in  the  judgment  I  have  formed  as  to  their 
piety.  A  man  of  ordinary  sagacity  and  experience, 
conversing  intimately  and  confidentially  with  one, 
through  all  the  stages  of  his  professed  experience, 
will  be  able,  certainly  in  most  cases,  to  detect  hy- 
pocrisy, and  to  discern  between  the  true  and  the 
false ;  and  this  is  the  easier  done  in  the  case  of 
prisoners  in  general,  than  in  that  of  others,  who 
have  been  educated  to  know  everything  about  re- 
ligious experience,  and  therefore  better  able  to 
deceive. 


STATE    PRISON    RELIGION.  83 

I  have  often  found  individuals  who  would  attempt 
to  deceive,  but  who,  not  knowing  what  really  be- 
longed to  a  true  religious  experience  made  a  very 
awkward  business  of  it;  and  though  perhaps  a  tear 
should  have  been  excited  rather,  still  I  have  some- 
times found  it  hard  to  suppress  a  smile  at  the 
want  of  success  of  the  poor  wretch,  in  his  attempt 
to  imitate  the  religion  of  Jesus. 

Farther,  I  have  always  found  that  those  who 
gave  good  evidence  of  piety,  were  far  less  anxious 
for  pardon,  than  others.  I  have  known  many  who 
have  assured  me  that  they  had  no  desire  at  the 
present  time,  to  be  released,  partly  because  they 
were  willing  to  suffer  just  punishment  for-  their 
sins,  and  partly  because  they  were  convinced  that 
until  their  minds  became  further  fortified  against 
temptation,  and  established  in  religion,  they  had 
better  remain  in  prison.  And  in  cases  of  clear  re- 
ligious experience,  though  the  man  might  desire 
rather  his  liberty,  yet  there  is  always  "  resignation," 
and  a  quiet  waiting  for  the  providence  of  God  to 
accomplish  deliverance.  I  admit  that,  as  a  class, 
convicts  are  not  so  stable  as  men  in  general.  Of 
course  their  religious  impressions  are  not  as  likely 
to  be  permanent ;  but  a  very  large  proportion  of 
those  who  have  died,  have  given  good  evidence 
that  they  "  died  in  faith, "  and  some  have  departed 


84  PRISON   REMINISCENCES. 

in  much  triumph.  Beside  these,  I  know  of  a  con- 
siderable number  who  are  good  and  acceptable 
members  of  the  Christian  church. 

There  was  a  young  man  who  was  possessed  of 
brilliant  talents,  but  who,  at  the  early  age  of 
seventeen,  was  brought  to  prison.  He  was  a  con- 
firmed infidel,  and  could  use  with  much  skill  and 
readiness  all  the  infidel  arguments,  of  all  the 
schools  of  infidelity.  The  word  of  God,  however, 
found  way  to  his  heart,  and  as  I  was  speaking  on 
the  general  judgment,  he  became  so  powerfully 
affected  that  he  sprang  from  his  seat,  and  rushing 
by  the  officers,  ran  down  into  the  hall,  and  threw 
himself  upon  his  couch,  in  awful  agony.  He  soon 
found  deliverance,  and  is  soon  to  graduate  from  a 
Presbyterian  Theological  Seminary,  having  been 
educated  under  the  patronage  of  a  celebrated 
clergyman  of  that  denomination.  On  the  whole,  I 
find  that  in  respect  to  religious  matters,  State 
prisoners  are  not  another  race  of  beings,  widely 
separated  from  the  mass  of  mankind,  but  that  all 
the  characteristics  of  the  human  kind  belong  to 
them.  And  this  is  likewise  true,  as  to  intel- 
lect. Some  seem  to  imagine  that  convicts  are  an 
uncommonly  dull  and  ignorant  class,  while  others 
imagine  a  set  of  men  of  great  sprightliness,  and 
of  intellect  superior  to  men  in  general.  I  am  per- 


STATE   PRISON   RELIGION.  85 

suaded  that  the  truth  is  with  neither  opinion,  but 
judging  from  the  hundreds  I  have  known,  I  rank 
them  with  the  community,  and  neither  below  or 
above  it. 

In  regard  to  education  they  are  below  the  New 
England  medium,  but  fully  equal  to  the  average  of 
communities  in  other  parts  of  the  United  States. 
8 


86  PRISON   REMINISCENCES. 


CHAPTER     VII. 

THOMAS    CARR. 

THOMAS  CARR  was  physically  and  intellectually 
an  honor  to  that  "  finest  pisintry  in  the  world." 
Of  good  form,  and  handsome  features,  and  pos- 
sessed of  great  kindness  of  heart,  he  was,  from  his 
first  corning  among  us,  a  great  favorite  with  all  the 
officers.  He  was,  in  his  religious  training,  and 
honest  convictions,  a  Catholic.  His  education  was 
otherwise  neglected.  He  had  not  learned  the 
alphabet  of  the  English  language.  At  the  time  of 
his  commitment,  a  considerable  number  of  the  con- 
victs, by  permission  of  the  Warden,  held  weekly 
meetings  for  prayer  and  religious  conversation ; 
the  meetings  being  conducted  by  the  Chaplain. 
The  Sabbath  services  were  also  listened  to  with 
interest  and  all  the  meetings  were  crowned  with 
the  Divine  blessing. 

Tommy  was  quite  attentive,  though  somewhat 
suspicious  of  the  character  of  our  religion.  In  a 
short  time  he  appeared  very  thoughtful.  I  spoke 
to  him,  kindly  urging  in  a  general  manner  the  im- 
portance of  religion,  without  startling  his  preju- 


THOMAS    CARE.  87 

dices.  For  some  time  I  saw  Ms  convictions  were 
deepening ;  at  length  his  feelings  became  so  intense 
that  he,  unsolicited  by  me,  divulged  them. 

"  Mr.  Chaplain,"  said  he,  "  I  do  not  know  what 
to  do ;  my  heart  is  very  sad  entirely.  I  say  my 
prayers  over  and  over  again,  but  I  get  no  pace ;  I 
lie  down  at  night  and  I  get  no  pace.  0,"  said  he, 
as  his  tears  fell  fast,  "  what  shall  I  do,  your  river- 
ence ;  what  shall  I  do  ?  "  I  hastened  to  set  be- 
fore him  the  crucified  Jesus  as  his  only  hope,  and 
fix  his  eye  steadily  on  him.  With  some  reluctance 
he  consented  to  attend  our  prayer  meetings,  and 
bowed  himself  in  supplication.  After  some  time 
spent  in  earnest  and  importunate  prayer,  in  which 
he  cried  aloud  for  pardon  and  forgivness,  he,  like 
Jacob,  prevailed  and  found  deliverance. 

0,  how  that  face  shone,  as  did  that  of  the  an- 
cient Prophet.  And  with  what  true  Irish  eloquence 
did  he  give  glory  to  God  for  his  wonderful  deliver- 
ance, "  0,  glory  be  to  Jesus  !  "  exclaimed  he,  "  I 
find  that  this  way  of  praying  and  confession  does 
the  business ;  I  am  blist !  0,  I  am  blist  entirely  ! " 
We  wept  together  tears  of  grateful  joy,  and  from 
that  time  Tom  went  on  his  way  rejoicing.  "  Show 
me  the  name  of  Jesus,"  said  he  to  me  one  day, 
handing  to  me  the  Bible.  I  did  so ;  he  looked 
at  it  a  long  time  steadily,  and  at  length  hia 


88  PRISON   REMINISCENCES. 

eyes  filled  with  tears,  "01  think  I  shall  know  it," 
said  he,  with  deep  emotion. 

But  cannot  I  learn  to  read  his  words  for  myself? 
he  inquired ;  I  assured  him  of  assistance,  and  that 
by  close  application  he  might  soon  be  able  to 
search  the  blessed  record,  and  read  and  understand 
the  truths  that  make  wise  unto  salvation.  And 
in  a  few  months  he  made  such  proficiency  as  to 
make  out  pretty  accurately  whole  chapters.  He 
also  took  great  delight  in  committing  hymns. 
Some  students  of  the  Methodist  Theological  Insti- 
tute gave  him  a  fine  copy  of  the  hymn  book,  and 
at  his  death  I  found  the  leaves  on  which  the  most 
devotional  hymns  are,  very  much  worn.  Such  hymns 
as  that  commencing,  "  Alas,  and  did  my  Saviour 
bleed,"  and  "  Plunged  in  a  gulf  of  deep  despair," 
were  evidently  much  studied. 

He  seemed  anxious  to  learn  to  write,  and  on 
procuring  him  a  slate,  he  discovered  a  most  re- 
markable readiness  in  acquiring  this  branch  of 
knowledge.  From  his  first  attempt  he  would  imi- 
tate my  copies  almost  perfectly,  following  copy,  de- 
fects and  all,  with  most  amazing  accuracy.  One 
day  on  passing  his  cell  he  held  up  his  slate  filled 
with  well  formed  letters,  though  at  this  time  he 
could  not  read  a  word.  "  See  ! "  said  he,  his  honest 
face  glowing  with  commendable  pride  at  his  success. 


THOMAS   CAKE.  89 

I  looked,  and  found  that  the  roguish  young  fellow 
on  guard  had  set  him  for  a  copy  a  most  wicked 
sentence,  which  Tom  had  fully  written  out  to  the 
bottom  of  his  slate,  imitating  every  letter  without 
knowing  one  of  them.  I  commended  his  skill,  and 
dashed  out  the  writing,  and  Tom  never  knew  but  it 
was  a  very  fine  passage  of  scripture. 

Thus  he  continued  to  make  rapid  advancement 
as  well  in  reading,  spelling,  and  writing,  as  in  re- 
ligious knowledge  and  experience.  But  his  time 
was  short.  Suddenly  he  was  found  laboring  under 
a  disease  which,  though  unattended  with  pain,  rapidly 
undermined  the  foundations  of  life.  He  was  aware 
of  it,  but  only  rejoiced,  "  because,"  said  he,  "  I  shall 
go  to  Jesus. "  Through  his  last  sickness  all  was 
calm  and  tranquil,  and  his  sun  set  without  a  cloud. 
That  dying  scene  is  indelibly  impressed  on  my  mem- 
ory. All  was  silent  in  that  gloomy  apartment  but 
the  slow,  hard  breathing  of  the  dying  man.  I 
prayed  and  rejoiced  with  him.  "  0,"  said  he,  "you 
told  me  of  Jesus,  and  how  to  find  him.  I  love 
every  body,  but  you  more  than  all,  and  next  to 
Jesus.  0,  how  I  wish  I  had  something  to  leave 
you  as  a  token  of  my  gratitude ; "  as  if  recollect- 
ing, "  0,"  said  he,  "  I  have  a  five  cent  piece,  will 
you  please  accept  it,  and  let  it  bring  to  your  mind 
Tommy  Carr  when  I  am  in  heaven." 


90  PRISON   REMINISCENCES. 

Ah,  had  it  been  as  many  thousand  dollars  it  could 
not  have  made  more  apparent  the  gratitude  of  that 
honest  heart,  now  faintly  beating  its  last  pulsa- 
tions. Opening  his  eyes,  and  smiling  as  he  looked 
around  on  us,  then  closing  them  with  expressions 
of  holy  triumph,  he  ceased  to  breathe. 

0,  what  a  transition  from  a  prison  to  a  pal- 
ace ;  with  what  transports  did  that  spirit  look  out 
upon  the  heavenly  city 

"  That  city  so  holy  and  pure, 
No  sorrow  can  breathe  in  its  air." 

How  strange  a  liberation ;  at  once  from  the  cold 
walls  of  stone  and  from  the  walls  of  flesh.  How 
strangely  changed  his  companions  1  From  a  sad 
company  of  gloomy,  guilty  convicts,  to  an  innumer- 
able company,  glorious,  triumphant,  "  brighter  than 
the  noonday  sun." 

In  our  city  cemetery,  in  the  "  Prisoners'  Lot,"  re- 
pose the  mortal  remains  of  Thomas  Carr.  The 
foot  prints  of  parent,  brother,  sister,  marked  not 
the  path  to  that  lone  home ;  but  rest,  my  brother, 

"Peaceful  in  thy  grave  so  low." 

"  God,  thy  Redeemer  lives, 
And  ever  from  the  skies 
Looks  down,  and  watches  all  thy  dust, 
'Till  he  shall  bid  it  rise." 


THOMAS   CARR.  91 

No  stone  marks  the  place,  but  the  grave  of  little 
Benjamin,  the  lamented  of  his  father,  the  President 
of  the  United  States,  reposing  near  by,  shall  be 
no  more  faithfully  remembered  than  thine,  nor 
shall  it  at  the  resurrection  yield  up  a  form  more 
glorious. 


92  PEISON  EEMDTISCENCES. 


CHAPTER    YIII. 

HICKS,   THE   BURGLAE. 

THE  name  of  this  individual  is  familiar  with 
many,  and  his  history  suggests  some  useful  thoughts, 
and  may,  perhaps,  be  read  with  interest  and  profit. 
The  above  is  not  his  sirname,  but  the  one  by 
which  he  was  generally  known.  In  person,  Hicks 
was  of  small  size,  but  possessed  of  great  muscular 
strength  and  activity.  There  was  something  in 
his  countenance  which  indicated  intellect  set  in 
motion.  His  mind  was  incessantly  active,  and  was 
capable  of  grasping  almost  any  subject,  and  pur- 
suing it  with  steadiness  and  accuracy.  But  his 
early  training  was  very  defective.  A  strong  hand 
should  have  controlled  him,  and  a  strict  discipline 
checked  his  waywardness,  and  sleepless  love  should 
have  watched  over  his  youth. 

Unfortunately  he  never  had  a  father  to  control 
and  guide  him  in  his  childhood  and  youth,  and  he 
was  too  impulsive  and  obstinate  for  the  feeble 
hand  of  a  mother.  He  soon  went  beyond  her  con- 
trol, and  became  known  as  a  daring  and  reckless 


HICKS,   THE   BURGLAR.  93 

lad,  possessed  of  some  fine  traits  of  character,  but 
of  others  of  an  opposite  and  dangerous  kind. 
His  moral  sense  s-eems  never  to  have  been  but  im- 
perfectly developed. 

He  acquired  a  tolerably  good  English  education, 
and  was  quite  fond  of  reading,  and  very  fluent  in 
conversation.  His  views  of  religion  were  very  pe- 
culiar. He  professed  to  believe  without  a  doubt  in 
the  existence  and  the  providence  of  God,  and  few 
could  state,  or  defend  more  clearly  and  skillfully 
those  great  doctrines  than  Hicks.  But  he  never 
could  be  persuaded  of  the  doctrines  peculiar  to 
Christianity.  He  seemed  to  treat  the  subject  with 
candor,  and  was  never  to  my  knowledge,  guilty  of 
rudeness  towards  any  whom  he  thought  sincere 
in  their  professions  of  piety.  But  the  idea  of  a 
scheme  of  pardon,  the  saving  without  inflicting 
merited  punishment,  the  "  forgiving  iniquity,  trans- 
gression and  sin,"  he  was  quite  unwilling  to  re- 
ceive. He  professed  to  believe  that  God,  the 
father  of  all,  delighted  in  justice,  and  in  his  admin- 
istration would  at  some  time,  and  in  some  way, 
bring  it  to  pass ;  and  further,  that  he  employed 
right-minded  men  to  assist  him  in  his  administra- 
tion of  justice  upon  the  earth.  If  one  is  an  op- 
pressor and  unjust,  if  he  is  illiberal  or  an  extor- 
tioner, and  human  laws  will  not  or  do  not  reach 


94  PBISON   REMINISCENCES. 

him,  it  becomes  the  duty  of  a  lover  of  justice  to 
make  the  matter  right.  He  should,  in  the  most 
convenient  way,  dispossess  the  rich  man  of  his  ill- 
gotten  gain,  and  restore  it  to  its  proper  owner,  or 
to  some  of  the  same  class.  Thus  the  extortioner 
and  oppressor  would  be  taught  a  salutary  lesson, 
and  find  that  "  riches  gotten  by  deceit  are  soon 
wasted; "  the  poor  man,  while  he  was  made  com- 
fortable in  his  circumstances,  would  learn  to  be 
patient  and  to  bear  up  under  the  ills  of  life  until 
justice  came  to  his  relief. 

Now  whether  Hicks'  thievish  propensity  sug- 
gested this  theory,  "  the  wish  being  father  to  the 
thought,"  or  whether  his  doctrine  led  to  his  practice, 
or  whether  each  gave  strength  and  activity  to  the 
other,  is  left  to  the  judgment  of  the  reader.  Such 
were  his  avowed  sentiments,  and  such  his  acknowl- 
edged course  of  life.  I  have  never  seen  a  man 
who,  in  my  opinion,  so  faithfully  represented  the 
celebrated  chieftains  of  brigands  of  the  Old  "World, 
in  these  things ;  and  had  the  physical  and  moral 
conditions  of  our  country  been  similar  to  that  of 
some  others,  I  should  have  looked  for  him  as  the 
renowned  leader  of  an  hundred  desperate  men. 
He  would  have  inspired  them  with  confidence  in 
his  leadership,  and  the  most  unbounded  attachment 
to  himself.  He  would  have  nerved  them  up  to 


HICKS,   THE  BUEGLAR.  95 

efforts  the  most  hazardous,  and  to  the  endurance 
of  great  fatigue.  He  would  have  cultivated  in 
them  the  kindliest  affections  toward  the  poor  and 
suffering,  and  checked  all  the  remonstrances  of 
conscience  by  making  them  the  champions  of  jus- 
tice, the  friends  of  the  poor,  and  the  protectors  of 
the  weak.  He  would  have  fed  the  hungry  and 
clothed  the  naked  as  zealously  and  as  kindly  as  a 
Christian  man  could  do ;  and  the  luckless  free- 
booter who  should  have  been  known  to  injure  the 
person  or  the  property  of  a  weak,  defenceless,  or 
destitute  person,  would  have  brought  down  the  most 
terrible  punishment  upon  his  devoted  head. 

His  resources  would,  of  course,  have  been  drawn 
from  the  affluent ;  the  pockets,  or  the  shop,  or  the 
parlor,  of  the  wealthy,  and  especially  such  as  had 
acquired  their  wealth  by  unjust  or  oppressive 
measures.  His  men  would  have  been  trained  to 
the  most  exact  justice  among  themselves,  and  no 
disorderly  member  would  have  been  suffered  to 
remain  among  them.  No  cruelties  would  have 
been  allowed  except  in  cases  of  "  necessity."  They 
would  have  been  trained  to  rob  with  politeness, 
and  to  disburse  to  the  needy  with  great  liberality 
and  cheerfulness.  In  a  word,  he  would  have  been 
the  American  "  Rob  Roy"  But  the  state  of  things 
in  our  land  is  not  favorable  to  such  organization. 


96  PRISON  REMINISCENCES. 

The  depredator  here,  generally  finds  it  safest  to 
go  forth  in  his  "  individual  capacity,"  or  at  most,  to 
take  in  but  a  single  partner.  Here  a  reader  stops 
short  and  throws  out  some  intimations  about  some- 
body plundering  the  people.  I  do  not  know  that 
I  get  his  meaning,  but  it  is  something  about  getting 
an  "act  of  incorporation,"  and  "worthless  stock," 
and  "  over  issue,"  and  the  "  defaulting  of  gentle- 
men of  our  first  families." 

I  presume,  however,  the  man  does  not  mean 
anything  serious,  only  disposed  to  be  a  little  face- 
tious ;  it  can't  be  that  he  intends  to  be  understood 
that  the  transactions  hinted  at  are  robberies.  O, 
no,  you  do  not  feel  a  robber's  hand  in  your  pocket, 
or  hear  his  footsteps  in  your  parlor,  or  see  his 
beautiful  revolver  with  its  many  eyes,  looking  you 
in  the  face.  To  be  sure,  the  property  is  gone,  but 
"  are  they  not  all  honorable  men  ?  " 

I  am  not  prepared  to  give  the  whole  history  of 
Hicks,  if  indeed  it  were  desirable  to  do  so.  He 
is  said  to  have  committed  many  daring  robberies, 
and  to  have  plundered  property  to  a  considerable 
amount.  He  was  generally  successful  in  evading 
his  pursuers,  and  while  the  officers  of  justice  were, 
as  they  supposed,  in  close  pursuit  of  him,  he  would 
be  in  some  other  locality,  "  driving  a  rousing  busi- 
ness." He  often  made  hair  breadth  escapes  from 


HICKS,  THE   BURGLAR.  97 

the  many  who  were  ambitious  to  take  one  so  re- 
nowned, or  were  stimulated  by  the  offer  of  a  rich 
reward.  Frequently  did  he  suffer  much  from  cold, 
and  hunger,  and  fatigue.  On  one  occasion,  having 
made  a  successful  attempt  to  replenish  his  funds, 
he  found  that  his  "cash  on  hand,"  amounted  to 
one  hundred  dollars.  His  first  care  was,  at  the 
setting  in  of  night,  to  find  food,  for  he  was  almost 
famished.  He  was  on  one  of  the  Green  Mountains 
of  Vermont,  and  wandered  long,  and  suffered  much; 
at  length  he  discovered  a  small,  poor  looking 
house,  and  on  arousing  the  inmates,  found  it  ten- 
anted by  a  poor  widow,  recently  bereft  of  her  hus- 
band, and  with  a  large  family  of  children.  He 
spake  kindly  to  the  woman,  giving  her  assurance 
of  safety,  and  she  brought  out  her  little  store  of 
food,  a  large  proportion  of  which  Hicks  eagerly 
devoured,  and  then,  after  a  little  rest,  taking  out  a 
very  small  sum  from  his  one  hundred  dollars, 
placed  the  rest  in  the  hand  of  the  widow,  with  his 
warmest  thanks  for  her  hospitality.  This  trait  of 
character  was  always  very  prominent  in  his  prison 
life.  His  sympathies  were  always  active  where  he 
knew  of  flie  sufferings  of  any  of  the  convicts.  On 
no  other  occasion  did  he  ever  evince  a  wish  that  I 
should  evade  or  violate  any  rule  of  the  prison. 
But  several  times,  (and  sometimes  with  tears,)  did 
9 


98  PRISON   REMINISCENCES. 

he  urge  me  to  take  portions  of  his  own  food,  or 
tobacco,  to  men,  who  either  by  the  order  of  the 
physician,  or  as  a  punishment  for  insubordination, 
were  deprived  of  their  ordinary  rations.  And  if 
any  one  was  evidently  destroying  his  health  by 
vicious  indulgence,  or  if  any  were  unable  to  read 
or  write,  it  was  wonderful  how  a  man  of  his  habits 
of  life  should  show  such  evident  proofs  of  a  sym- 
pathetic feeling  and  generous  heart.  On  one  occa- 
sion he  attempted  to  correspond  with  another  con- 
vict, which  was,  of  course,  a  violation  of  the  prison 
rules.  A  few  lines  written  by  H.  and  directed  to 
the  other  prisoner,  was  put  into  the  clothing  that 
had  been  washed,  so  that  when  distributed  the  let- 
ter would  find  its  place,  when  the  man  who  works  in 
that  department  had  made  the  proper  assignment 
of  the  articles.  Of  course,  that  functionary,  though 
entirely  innocent,  was  suspected,  and  his  denial  of 
any  knowledge  of  the  affair  was  not  satisfactory 
proof  of  his  innocence.  Circumstantial  evidence 
was  strong  against  him,  and  poor  G.  was  marched 
off  to  No.  1,  as  that  undesirable  locality  designed 
for  the  accommodation  of  unruly  convicts,  is  called. 
The  Old  Man  refused  to  "  own  up,"  and  his  sup- 
posed obstinacy  was  likely  to  cost  him  a  long  con- 
finement. 

By  some  means  the  matter  became  suspected  by 


HICKS,   THE   BURGLAR.  99 

Hicks,  who  sent  a  request  for  the  officer  to  call  at 
his  cell.  "Sir,"  said  Hicks,  "will  you  tell  me 
whether  the  Old  Man  G.  is  in  No.  1?"  "Why, 
what  is  that  to  you  ? "  responded  the  officer. 
"  Perhaps  nothing,"  said  Hicks,  "  but  if  he  is  there 
for  writing  that  letter,  or  for  having  any  knowledge 
of  it,  he  should  be  at  once  released,  and  I  should 
take  his  place,  which  I  am  now  ready  and  anxious 
to  do."  He  was  informed  of  the  fact,  and  at  once 
started  and  followed  the  officer  to  the  solitary  cell, 
and  expressing  the  utmost  sorrow  for  poor  G.,  en- 
tered cheerfully  the  lone  place.  I  do  not  think  his 
confinement  was  very  long,  nor  his  "  suffering  intol- 
erable," for  that  officer  was  capable  of  fully  appre- 
ciating such  an  honorable  act  as  he  had  witnessed ; 
an  act  that  would  do  honor  to  any  one  in  like  cir- 
cumstances. 

I  have  named  these  incidents  in  this  place,  out 
of  their  order  of  time,  because  I  wished  to  give 
an  illustration  of  his  character.  I  now  return  to  his 
history.  After  many  unsuccessful  attempts,  he  was 
at  last  arrested,  tried,  and  sentenced  to  the  Ver- 
mont State  Prison,  where  he  spent  several  years. 
On  coming  out  he  immediately  commenced  his  old 
practices,  and  soon  had  another  company  of  sher- 
iff's at  his  heels.  More  than  once  he  was  arrested, 
but  by  some  cunning  manoeuvre  or  some  desperate 


100  PBISON   REMINISCENCES. 

effort,  he  would  succeed  in  escaping  again.  At 
length  he  was  taken  and  confined  in  the  County 
Jail  in  Charlestown,  N.  H.  "While  awaiting  his 
trial,  he,  with  another  prisoner,  set  fire  to  their 
apartment  to  just  burn  their  way  out.  But  the 
fire  kindled  and  burned  more  fiercely  than  they  had 
expected  or  desired,  and  at  length  they  found  them- 
selves compelled  to  cry  "Jire,"  and  alarm  the  peo- 
ple. "  The  miserable  sleepy  fellows  !  "  said  he,  in 
relating  the  story,  "  it  did  seem  that  they  had  no 
regard  for  us,  and  were  willing  to  jeopardise  our 
valuable  lives."  After  a  long  time  the  inhabitants 
began  to  wake  up  and  to  bestir  themselves.  They 
had,  however,  waited  so  long,  that  it  was  not  ne- 
cessary to  strike  a  light  to  find  where  the  fire  was. 
The  whole  building  was  in  flames,  and  all  of  the 
exertions  of  the  villagers  was  not  sufficient  to 
check  the  devouring  element.  It  "  broke  jail,"  and 
went  out  destroying  dwellings,  stores,  offices,  out- 
houses, and  the  beautiful  Unitarian  Church,  one 
of  the  most  costly  and  beautiful  edificies  in  the 
state.  Poor  Charlestown  suffered  a  calamity  from 
which  it  has  not  yet  fully  recovered. 

Hicks  was  charged  with  arson,  brought  to  trial, 
convicted,  and  sentenced  to  imprisonment  for  life 
On  arriving  at  the  prison  he  seemed  rather  sad, 
and  yet  no  way  desponding.     The  massive  walls 


HICKS,   THE  BURGLAR.  101 

and  strong  doors  looked  rather  forbidding,  but  he 
was  not  the  man  to  give  up  without  a  trial.  Year 
after  year  his  ever  active  mind  was  intensely  em- 
ployed in  forming  some  plan  of  escape.  But  this 
(such  is  the  modern  arrangements  of  prisons, 
and  such  the  caution  of  the  officers,)  is  no  easy 
task.  At  night,  the  most  favorable  time  for  such 
an  attempt,  the  hall  in  which  the  sleeping  apart- 
ments are  situated,  is  well  lighted,  and  an  armed 
man  is  always  on  his  feet,  and  many  others  within 
call.  The  cells  are  not  built  against  the  walls  of 
the  building,  but  in  the  centre  of  the  hall,  so  that 
should  a  convict  dig  out,  he  would  find  himself  still  in 
the  prison,  alone  with  an  armed  man,  and  if  he 
could  overcome  him  so  quickly  as  to  give  no  alarm, 
it  would  require  more  than  three  hours  (the  time 
allotted  to  a  watch,)  for  the  convict  to  work  his 
way  through  stone  and  iron,  into  liberty.  This  is 
so  well  known  that  few  are  bold  enough  to  at- 
tempt an  escape.  But  Hicks  could  not  bow  his 
spirit  to  patient  bondage.  In  company  with  some 
half  dozen  others  he  laid  a  plan  for  escaping  which 
had  well  nigh  been  successful.  The  plot  was  a 
good  one,  and  all  the  actors  Averc  ready  to  per- 
form their  parts  severally  assigned,  but  one  of 
their  number  treacherously  revealed  the  whole 
matter,  and  the  poor  fellows  saw  enough  to  con- 
9* 


102  PEISON   REMINISCENCES. 

vince  them  that  they  were  suspected  and  watched ; 
so  the  planning  and  hard  labor  of  six  months  was 
all  lost. 

"With  the  failure  of  this,  his  great  and  ingeni- 
ous plan,  Hicks  was  quite'disheartened.  He  gave 
up  all  hope  of  escape,  and  became  quite  sad.  His 
native  good  humor  and  cheerfulness  quite  forsook 
him.  He  fell  into  a  sour,  complaining  frame  of 
mind,  and  from  this  time  was  an  uncomfortable 
prisoner.  Several  instances  of  disobedience  were 
passed  over  without  summary  punishment,  and 
when  at  last  it  .became  absolutely  necessary  to 
subdue  him,  he  made  a  desperate  attempt  to  reach 
the  officer  with  a  knife  which  he  had  concealed. 
Assisted  by  a  convict,  the  officer  succeeded  in 
subduing  and  securing  him,  but  not  until  he  had 
broken  the  back  of  his  hand  badly  by  striking  it 
against  an  iron  instrument  with  which  the  convict 
was  trying  to  secure  him.  "With  this  encounter 
the  poor  fellow  gave  up  all  hope  either  of  escape 
or  resistance,  and  seemed  more  than  ever  broken 
down  in  spirit,  humbled,  but  sullen.  He,  however, 
always  conversed  pleasantly  with  his  chaplain,  and 
seemed  anxious  to  please  him. 

His  health  now  began  gradually  to  decline,  and 
it  became  quite  evident  that  his  constitution  was 
yielding  under  the  pressure  of  a  prison  life  of  nine 


HICKS,   THE   BURGLAR.  103 

years,  made  more  unendurable  by  the  ceasless  ac- 
tivity of  a  mind  that  could  not  rest.  0,  how  ex- 
cellent, coming  in  at  this  time,  would  have  been 
the  light  and  strength  of  religion. 

Now,  when  all  hope  of  pardon  was  gone,  when 
health  had  fled,  and  not  a  solitary  star  of  hope 
appeared  to  give  promise  for  the  future,  how 
would  the  wretched  man  have  found  in  the  "love 
of  God  shed  abroad  in  the  heart,"  the  blessedness 
that  never  faileth.  Could  that  deathless  spirit 
that  had  so  long  "  sought  rest,  and  found  none," 
but  have  returned  to  "its  rest,"  then  had  his  set- 
ting sun,  so  long  and  dreadfully  obscured  by  clouds 
and  tempests,  shone  out  clearly  at  its  decline. 

These  thoughts  often  passed  through  the  mind 
of  one  who  felt  deeply  for  his  spiritual  welfare. 
The  subject  of  the  soul's  salvation  was  often  pre- 
sented and  urged,  I  dare  not  say  with  all  possible 
diligence,  or  faithfulness,  or  affection,  but  at  least 
with  some  frequency  and  feeling.  The  poor  man, 
however,  though  perfectly  respectful  in  his  deport- 
ment, and  evidently  capable  of  appreciating  the 
kindness  of  a  friend,  evinced  no  desire  for  the 
great  blessing  urged  upon  his  attention.  With 
the  most  perfect  composure  he  saw  his  flesh  and 
strength  decay.  Nerving  himself  for  the  last  trial 
of  his  firmness,  he  waited  the  approach  of  death. 


104  PRISON   REMINISCENCES. 

But  how  different  from  the  calm  trusting  confidence 
of  a  dying  Christian  man.  It  evidently  required 
great  effort  to  maintain  his  firmness,  and  there  was 
no  comfort,  no  hope,  no  triumph.  Just  before  he  died, 
being  alone  with  him,  and  feeling  an  intense  desire 
to  say  something  that  might  reach  his  heart,  I  ad- 
dressed him  very  plainly.  He  saw  my  deep  emo- 
tion, and  seemed  attentive.  I  said  to  him,  "Hicks, 
it  is  an  overwhelming  thought,  that  I  am  now  sit- 
ting beside  a  man  who  will  be  dead  to-morrow ; 
that  I  now  speak  to  a  man  to  whom  I  cannot  speak 
to-morrow,  that  I  have  now  prayed  with  one  who 
will  never  pray  after  this  day,  that  I  am  alone 
with  one  who  soon  must  open  his  eyes  on  the 
changeless  scenes  of  eternity '."  I  paused  and  looked 
him  full  in  the  face.  A  single  tear  started,  and 
stood  on  his  cheek.  I  waited  for  a  word  from 
him,  inwardly  praying  God  to  incline  his  soul  to 
repentance.  After  a  minute's  pause  he  spoke. 
"  Mr.  Smith  will  you  be  so  kind  as  to  bring  me  in 
some  bits  of  paper  with  which  to  cover  my  medi- 
cine ?  "  I  went  out,  too  sorrowful  to  weep.  His 
last  words  were — but  no,  I  will  not  write  them. 
Young  men  let  this  brief  history  instruct  you.  0, 
let  not  the  possession  of  some  good  points  of  char- 
acter, kindness,  benevolence,  or  any  commendable 
trait,  be  made  your  excuse  for  immorality  or  irre- 


HICKS,   THE   BURGLAR.  105 

ligion.  The  evil  will  grow  with  your  growth,  and 
strengthen  with  your  strength,  overshadowing  the 
good  which,  like  a  shaded,  sickly  plant,  will  strug- 
gle for  a  poor  existence,  and  die  out ;  while  plants 
of  noxious  quality  will  grow  with  rank  luxuriance, 
and  bear  their  deadly  fruits.  Give  diligence  to 
forsake  the  way  of  the  foolish  and  live.  "Avoid 
that  which  is  evil  —  cleave  to  that  which  is  good." 
And  most  of  all,  go  and  wash  in  that  fountain 
for  sin  and  uucleanness  opened  in  the  gospel  of 
Jesus.  Go,  all  polluted  and  perishing;  go,  and 
in  that  fountain,  surpassing  in  its  healing  virtues 
infinitely, 

"Bethesda's  pool,  or  famed  Siloam's  flood," 

find  moral  purity,  the  foundation  of  a  holy  life,  a 
triumphant  death,  and  a  fitness  for  a  resurrection 
to  eternal  life  and  heaven. 


106  PRISON   REMINISCENCES. 

CHAPTER  IX. 

THE    GIPSEY   FAMILY. 

THERE  lives  in  the  eastern  part  of  New  Hamp- 
shire, a  family  rejoicing  in  the  rather  unpoetic 
name  of  "  Leathers."  It  is  said  they  are  the  de- 
scendants of  a  Gipscy  family  who  came  to  that 
place  at  an  early  day,  and  who  for  several  genera- 
tions have  been  in  all  respects,  remarkable  for 
possessing  the  traits  of  character  peculiar  to  that 
strange  class  of  human  beings. 

Who  has  not  known  the  "  Lealherses  ?  "  Who 
but  he  "  to  dumb  forgctfulness  a  prey,"  will  not 
recollect  how  they  came  year  after  year,  "  heavily 
freighted  "  with  brooms  and  baskets,  and  with  the 
various  articles  of  produce  taken  in  exchange  and 
intended  for  "home  consumption."  Theirs  was 
an  interesting  portion  of  our  "  internal,"  and  even 
of  our  coast-wise  trade.  Their  manner  of  living 
approached  very  near  to  that  of  primitive  simpli- 
city. They  have  never  coveted  the  costly  elegan- 
cies of  "modern  degenerates"  •  The  neighbor  of 
this  ancient  family 

"  Sees  no  contiguous  palace  rear  its  head 
To  shame  the  meanness  of  his  humble  shed." 


THE    GIPSEY    FAMILY.  107 

In  a  word,  in  habitation,  furniture,  apparel,  and 
all  the  details  of  domestic  life,  they  were  Gipseys. 
And  let  none  do  them  the  injustice  to  suppose  that 
they  were  useless;  for  better  brooms  and  baskets 
were  nowhere  to  be  had,  "  terms  easy,"  and  pay- 
ment in  anything  eatable,  drinkable,  wearable,  or 
miscellaneous.  But  disturbances  will  take  place 
in  the  best  regulated  families.  It  was  the  fault  of 
this,  that  love-  of  intoxicating  liquors  was  inherent, 
and  as  far  as  means  would  allow,  cultivated.  Many 
a  hard  earned  dollar  has  gone  for  very  poor  New 
England  Rum.  Many  a  well  filled  jug  from  the 
shops  of  "gentlemen  "  traders,  has  made  its  advent 
into  the  unpretending  habitations  of  this  family, 
and  many  a  night  has  been  made  hideous  to  the 
neighborhood  compelled  to  listen,  first  to  the  in- 
cipient skirmish,  and  then  to  the  sound  of  general 
action,  as  the  combat  thickened.  The  aggregate 
of  courageous  and  well  sustained  conflicts  kept 
up  by  this  family  through  all  its  generations,  would 
(for  aught  I  know  to  the  contrary)  have  been  suf- 
ficient to  take  "  Sebastapol." 

At  length,  in  one  of  these  contests,  one  of  their 
number,  an  old  man,  received  from  the  hand  of 
Eben  Leathers,  Jr.,  a  blow  with  a  billet  of  wood, 
which  caused  his  death  in  a  few  hours.  Eben,  sen- 
ior, a  brother  of  the  murdered  man,  Eben,  Jr.,  and 


108  PRISON   REMINISCENCES. 

Robert,  a  brother  of  the  last  named,  were  ar- 
raigned, tried,  and  sentenced  —  alleged  crime, 
murder  in  the  second  degree  —  sentence  of  Eben, 
Jr.,  "twenty,  of  the  other  two,  fifteen  years  hard 
labor  in  the  State  Prison."  It  was  sad  to  see  the 
old  man,  seventy-four  years  of  age,  with  his  two 
sons,  both  having  families,  enter  the  prison  on  a 
charge  of  so  aggravating  a  character,  and  for  a 
term  of  years  that  seemed  to  make  it  impossible 
that  either  of  them  would  go  out  alive.  And  now 
the  work  of  the  court  is  ended ;  the  people  of 
the  neighborhood  relieved  of  what  they  considered 
a  large  portion  of  a  great  nuisance ;  and  outraged 
justice  likely  to  obtain  redress.  But  the  Chap- 
lain's responsibilities  here  commence.  Can  any- 
thing  be  done  for  these  poor  men  ?  Is  there  a 
deathless  spirit  shut  up  in  those  rude  habitations 
of  flesh  and  blood  ?  Is  that  spirit  capable  of 
knowing,  loving,  and  .enjoying  God  ?  And  can  it 
be  reached?  These  were  questions  of  vast  im- 
portance, for  duty  was  to  be  determined  by  the 
conclusion.  The  common  sentiment  was,  "you 
can't  do  anything  with  a  Leathers,  no  use  to  try; 
can't  learn  —  can't  make  them  understand  —  not 
like  other  folks." 

But  another  voice  says,  they  are  God's  creatures. 
"All  souls  are  mine  saith  the  Lord."     These,  then 


THE   GIPSEY   FAMILY.  109 

are  some  of  his  treasures  that  have  been  buried 
up ;  deeply,  darkly  buried.  If  not  his  brightest  jew- 
els, they  are  by  him  deemed  worth  saving,  and  they 
are  thy  kindred  immortals,  sharing  the  same  divine 
care  and  oversight ;  redeemed  on  the  same  cross ; 
accessible  to  the  same  spiritual  influence ;  candi- 
dates for  the  same  heaven.  This  is  sufficient.  The 
path  of  duty  is  now  plain  —  now  then  to  the 
work. 

The  efforts  to  teach  them  to  read  were  nearly 
fruitless.  In  respect  to  the  old  man  there  seemed 
no  hope.  Robert,  after  a  short  trial,  gave  up. 
Eben,  though  he  made  considerable  effort,  for  years 
was  not  able  to  read  so  as  to  be  profited.  But  oral 
instruction  succeeded  much  better.  Great  pains 
were  taken  to  make  a  few  of  the  most  vital  truths 
of  religion  plain,  and  to  accustom  their  minds  to 
sober  thought.  In  language  they  could  understand, 
and  by  methods  of  reasoning  on  a  level  with  their 
capacity,  they  were  taught  their  relation  and  duty 
to  God  and  man,  and  the  consequences  of  a  virtu- 
ous and  vicious  life. 

The  aged  man  often  wept  when  I  spoke  to  him 
of  these  things,  and  expressed  much  regret  that 
his  life  had  been  misspent.  He  seemed  desirous 
to  know  and  practice  better  things,  and  I  am  in- 
formed that  since  his  liberation  (which  was  by 
10 


110  PRISON   REMINISCENCES. 

pardon)  lie  has  shown  that  the  labor  bestowed  on 
him  was  not  lost.  Robert  was  very  soon  after  his 
committal  the  subject  of  religious  impressions,  and 
his  improvement  in  general  knowledge  quite  en- 
couraging. At  length,  after  some  weeks  of  evident 
deep  conviction,  and  seasons  of  earnest  prayer,  in 
which  the  poor  fellow  often  lifted  up  his  voice  and 
wept  aloud,  he  seemed  to  find  his  way  to  the  cross. 

It  was  wonderful  how  clear  and  intelligent  his 
views  of  religious  truth  became.  No  one  could 
well  doubt  that  he  had  been  with  Jesus  and  learned 
of  him.  The  love  of  Christ  seemed  shed  abroad 
in  his  heart,  and  to  be  the  all  absorbing  theme  of 
his  thoughts  and  conversation. 

His  conduct  was  from  that  time  perfectly  exem- 
plary, and  to  the  time  of  his  pardon,  I  never  heard 
a  word  spoken  of  Robert  that  did  not  justify  his 
profession.  His  health  slowly  declined  after  a 
few  years'  imprisonment,  and  for  a  long  time  he 
seemed  sinking  to  the  grave  with  pulmonary  com- 
plaints. During  his  confinement  to  the  hospital 
he  manifested  the  utmost  reconciliation  to  the 
Divine  Will.  Always  obedient,  cheerful,  and  full 
of  holy  hope,  all  connected  with  the  prison  were 
accustomed  to  say  "  if  there  is  a  Christian  among 
us,  it  is  Robert."  In  consideration  of  his  excel- 
lent character  as  a  prisoner,  and  his  very  low  state 


THE   GIPSEY   FAMILY.  Ill 

of  health,  indicating  plainly  that  he  could  not  long 
maintain  his  hold  on  life,  especially  in  prison,  ho 
was  pardoned,  and  I  rejoice  to  be  able  to  say  that 
he  is  reported  as  maintaining  well  his  religious 
profession. 

Eben  Leathers  was  in  some  respects  quite  unlike 
his  brother.  He  was  a  man  of  great  muscular 
strength,  but  very  sluggish,  and  his  intellect  infe- 
rior to  that  of  Robert.  His  temper,  especially 
when  aroused  by  intoxication,  was  terrible.  At 
the  times  of  general  conflict  spoken  of  heretofore, 
Eben  always  sought  the  thickest  of  the  fight,  and 
when  he  fought  all  fell  before  him.  He  seemed 
skilled  in-  bringing  into  the  encounter  every  availa- 
ble means  of  attack  or  repulse,  clubs,  stones,  brick- 
bats, feet,  fists,  teeth,  were  all  employed,  and  all 
to  the  best  possible  advantage.  Poor  Robert's 
nasal  organ  is  minus  a  considerable  portion,  which 
it  is  said  his  warlike  brother  bit  off,  and  as  if  re- 
solved that  the  family  should  lose  nothing,  delib- 
erately chewed  and  swallowed  it.  And  he  gave 
the  fatal  blow  when  his  old  uncle  fell,  and  for 
whose  killing  the  three  were  imprisoned. 

The  progress  of  poor  Eben  was  painfully  slow. 
There  was  no  sudden  emergence  into  light,  no 
rapid  marches  up  the  hill  of  science,  noByronic  flight, 

"  Scaling  -with  case  those  heights 
Where  angels  bashful  look." 


112  PRISON   REMINISCENCES. 

Still  there  was  progress ;  plain  truths  were  appre- 
hended, dimly  at  first,  for  like  the  ancient  blind 
man,  he  saw  "  men  as  trees  walking."  But  "  la- 
bor omnia  vincit."  It  was  clear  that  the  thinking 
machinery  was  in  motion,  though  that  motion  was 
slow  and  irregular. 

He  seemed  anxious  to  learn,  and  especially  in 
respect  to  religious  matters.  Great  pains  were 
taken  to  set  forth  and  explain  religious  truth ;  and 
it  was  wonderful  how  that  glorious  system  into 
which  "  angels  desire  to  look,"  and  which  furnishes 
scope  for  the  most  powerful  intellect,  "conde- 
scended "  to  this  "  man  of  low  estate."  He  saw, 
and  began  to  comprehend  its  vital  points,  and  his 
moral  feelings  were  soon  affected.  His  lost  con- 
dition, his  manifold  wickedness,  his  terrible  expo- 
sure, were  beginning  to  be  to  him  fearful  realities, 
and  he  was  often  found  in  tears  —  tears  of  true 
penitence. 

The  duty  of  prayer  was  of  course  urged,  and 
as  opportunity  presented,  he  seemed  to  join  with 
great  anxiety.  On  some  occasions,  not  satisfied 
with  the  prayer  offered  for  him,  or  with  his  own 
mental  sighing  after  pardon  and  peace,  he. prayed 
aloud.  It  would  not  be  expected  that  his  language 
on  such  an  occasion  would  be  captivating  to  "  ears 
polite,"  or  of  the  most  appropriate  character ;  and 


THE   GIPSEY   FAMILY.  113 

yet,  in  his  way,  he  gave  evidence  that  he  had  some 
just  views  of  his  true  condition  and  his  wants.  I 
well  remember  that  he  would  often  pray  on  this 
wise,  "  0  Lord,  I  sped  I'se  been  a  drifful  critter, 
a  tebble  bad  man,  but  du  you  forgive,  du  pray  for- 
give ;  I  know  Jesus  died  for  me,  and  for  all  poor 
sinners.  0,  forgive."  "And  this  poor  man  cried, 
and  the  Lord  heard  him,  and  delivered  him  out  of 
all  his  troubles."  0,  how  much  more  acceptable 
to  God  such  a  cry,  coming  up  from  a  penitent  and 
contrite  heart,  than  that  "most  elegant  prayer,  ad- 
dressed to  a  most  fashionable  congregation,  by  a 
most  learned  and  accomplished,  but  unconverted 
minister. 

"  Vainly  we  offer  each  ample  oblation, 
Vainly  with  gold  would  his  favor  secure ; 
Richer  by  far  is  the  heart's  adoration, 
Dearer  to  God  are  the  prayers  of  the  poor." 

There  was  nothing  remarkable  in  the  experience 
of  this  man,  only  as  its  points  seemed  more  excel- 
lent in  one  who  had  been  so  debased.  That  the 
prophet's  great  valley  was  filled  with  a  host  of 
living  men,  was  not  remarkable.  But  the  wonder 
was  that  countless  dry  and  scattered  fragments 
of  the  human  form  should  rise  up  in  life  and  vigor 
and  beauty.  And  to  the  moralist,  and  especially 
the  Christian,  there  is  much  of  interest  in  remark- 
10* 


114  PRISON   REMINISCENCES* 

ing  how  humanity  in  its  lowest  forms,  is  capable 
of  receiving  the  life  divine.  The  material  is 
rough,  and  incapable  of  a  high  polish,  but  may, 
notwithstanding,  receive  the  Divine  Image.  And 
how  blessed  to  trace  the  image  of  the  heavenly, 
though  roughly  sketched,  on  an  immortal  spirit. 
Eben,  from  this  time,  was  patient,  obedient,  and 
evidently  possessed  of  love  to  God  and  all  around 
him,  and  in  all  respects  demeaned  himself  as  a  new 
man;  and  thus  he  finished  up  what  remained  to 
him  of  life,  fully  trusting  to  the  last  in  the  Lord 
Jesus. 

It  is  remarkable  that  this  singular  family,  though 
fitted  in  their  physical  organization  for  great  en- 
durance, and  who  encountered  all  the  privations, 
exposures,  and  excesses  of  their  wandering  and 
intemperate  lives,  without  the  least  premature  de- 
cay, should,  on  their  confinement,  soon  decline, 
and  every  possible  effort  of  skill  and  kindness,  fail 
to  restore  them.  We  have  before  noticed  that  the 
father  and  Robert  were  pardoned,  as  their  only 
chance  for  life. 

Eben,  being  more  guilty  in  the  affair,  was  re- 
tained, and  sunk  gradually  away  and  died.  lie 
retained  his  reason  to  the  last,  seemed  perfectly 
conscious  that  his  hour  was  come,  and  to  the  end 


THE   GIPSEY   FAMILY.  115 

maintained  a  childlike   and  unshaken  confidence  in 
the  great  Redeemer. 

Thus,  while  the  "  wise  and  prudent,"  fail  through 
pride  or  obstinacy,  to  find  the  way  that  leadeth 
unto  life,  "the  wayfaring  man,"  of  feeble  intellect, 
but  of  honest  heart  and  purpose,  "  shall  not  err 
therein." 


116  PEISON   REMINISCENCES. 


CHAPTER    X. 

THE   RAILROAD   ROBBER. 

"  THE  way  of  the  transgressor  is  hard."  This 
is  seldom  more  clearly  seen  than  in  the  history  of 
J.  S.  He  was  born  in  Sullivan  county,  New  Hamp- 
shire, and  had  opportunity  to  acquire  the  common 
branches  •  of  an  English  education,  such  as  has  suf- 
ficed to  make  intelligent  and  enterprising  men  of 
many  thousands  of  the  citizens  of  our  state.  Both 
in  physical  and  intellectual  endowments  he  was  not 
at  all  deficient,  and  withal,  he  was  possessed  of  a 
good  mechanical  genius. 

But  from  early  life  he  manifested  a  strong  pro- 
pensity to  dishonesty,  and,  as  is  almost  always  the 
case  with  such,  to  lying.  Had  these  propensities 
been  early  checked  and  overcome,  I  know  not  why 
J.  might  not  to-day  have  been  the  owner  of  a 
pleasant  home,  surrounded  by  a  beloved  family  and 
respected  and  esteemed  by  all.  He  might  have 
spent  this  hour  in  grateful  recollection  of  a  life 
crowned  with  blessing  from  God,  and  full  of  useful- 
ness to  others.  Perhaps  he  might  at  this  moment 
have  been  seen  surrounded  by  a  respectable  house- 


THE   BAILED  AD   ROBBER.  117 

hold  just  opening  the  holy  book  of  God,  and  saying: 
"  Come  let  us  bow  down  and  worship,  let  us  kneel 
before  the  Lord  our  Maker."  Or  had  it  pleased 
God  to  remove  him  into  eternity,  his  name  might 
have  been  as  precious  ointment,  and  in  some  place 
where  sleep  the  honored  dead,  there  would  have 
been  (we  may  suppose)  a  monument  inscribed  "To 
the  memory  of  J.  S.,  an  honest  man,  a  valuable 
citizen,  an  indulgent  husband,  and  a  kind  father. 
The  memory  of  the  just  is  blessed."  And  the 
soul  might  have  stood  among  the  great  company 
of  the  Redeemed  who  are  "forever  with  the 
Lord."  But  sin,  the  destroyer,  has  wrought  out 
and  completed  its  work  with  him.  All  that  he 
might  have  been  of  a  desirable  character ;  all  to 
which  he  might  have  attained;  all,  all  is  lost. 
The  poor  wreck  of  a  manly  form  lies  low  in  a 
felon's  grave,  unhonored  and  unwept.  His  memory 
like  his  dust  must  perish.  No  sweet  recollections 
of  his  life  can  rise  to  bless  the  heart  of  the  living. 
All,  all  to  the  gloomy  grave  is  sad  and  revolting. 
And  then,  the  soul  —  Oh,  the  soul ! 

Young  man,  for  your  sake,  principally,  I  sketch 
this  man's  history,  I  would  set  it  up  before  you  as 
a  solemn  warning.  Come  then,  read  on,  and  see 
what  were  the  fearful  and  fatal  results  of  yield- 
ing to  a  vicious  propensity.  You  will  perhaps 


118  PEISON   EEMINISCENCES. 

under  some  favoring  circumstance  experience  the 
rising  desire  for  something  not  your  own,  and  be 
tempted  to  make  it  yours  by  dishonest  means.  Just 
then  (it  may  be,  having  read  this  book,)  you  may 
think  of  J.  S.,  and  banish  the  unholy  thought 
of  committing  a  sin  which  would  have  been  the 
first  step  to  an  end  like  his. 

At  a  very  early  age  S.,  as  was  before  inti- 
mated, manifested  a  disposition  to  dishonesty. 
He  soon  became  troublesome  by  his  petty  lar- 
cenies ;  and  these  became  more  frequent,  and  soon 
extended  to  more  valuable  articles.  For  a  long 
time  the  inhabitants  of  the  town  bore  with  his 
depredations,  loth  to  resort  to  the  dreadful  alter- 
native of  imprisonment,  to  which,  however,  they 
were  finally  driven.. 

He  at  an  early  age  was  condemned  to  seven 
years'  hard  labor  in  the  state  prison.  The  impris- 
onment of  those  years  was  of  a  much  more  severe 
character  than  of  later  times,  as  will  elsewhere 
be  shown.  "We  do  not  propose  to  follow  him 
through  the  long  years  of  his  confinement,  every 
one  of  which  a  thousand  times  furnished  to  the 
poor  fellow  proof  of  the  truthfulness  of  the  divine 
saying,  "  The  way  of  the  transgressor  is  hard." 
At  last  came  the  day  of  deliverance,  and  the  bright 
sunshine  and  the  smiting  earth  seemed  to  welcome 


THE   RAILROAD   ROBBER.  119 

the  young  man  as  he  came  forth  from  the  dreari- 
ness of  his  prison  to  taste  the  sweets  of  liberty. 
He  returned  to  his  native  place  and  was  received 
by  the  inhabitants  of  that  very  respectable  town 
with  kindness.  He  commenced  working  at  his 
trade,  that  of  shoemaking,  and  for  a  short  time 
hopes  were  entertained  that  he  was  truly  a  reform- 
ed man.  He  professed  to  have  experienced  the  great 
blessing  of  religious  regeneration,  and  became  a 
member  of  the  Baptist  Church.  But  all  these 
fondly  cherished  hopes  of  the  friends  of  this  man 
were  soon  shaken,  and  he  left  the  place.  He  was 
soon  believed  to  be  the  perpetrator  of  several 
thefts  in  several  places,  and  fled  to  escape  from 
justice.  Long  time  was  he  a  fugitive  and  vaga- 
bond in  the  land.  By  day,  secreted  in  some  lonely 
wood  like  a  hunted  beast  of  prey ;  by  night,  stroll- 
ing around  to  obtain  something  on  which  to  subsist, 
or  to  find  some  one  of  his  old  comrades  in  crime 
whom  he  might  trust.  Thus  suffering  from  cold 
and  hunger,  and  fear  of  detection,  months  passed 
away  and  he  eluded  his  pursuers.  On  one  occa- 
sion he  was  betrayed  by  one  whom  he  thought  his 
friend,  (his  own  wife,  as  he  told  me,)  and  when 
crossing  a  bridge  over  the  Connecticut  river  found 
himself  confronted  as  he  approached  the  Vermont 
shore  by  the  officers  of  justice ;  turning  back  he 


120  PRISON    REMINISCENCES. 

met  another  posse  from  New  Hampshire.  Having 
no  other  possible  chance  for  escape,  he  thought  for 
a  moment,  on  the  one  that  was  truly  his  "forlorn 
hope.1'  The  bridge  was,  probably,  forty  feet  above 
the  riyer,  the  current  rapid,  and  filled  with  floating 
ice,  and  his  chance  of  escape  with  life  very  small. 

With  a  courage,  which  in  a  good  man  would 
have  won  for  him  the  reputation  of  a  hero,  he 
made  the  desperate  leap.  The  officers  saw  it,  and 
heard  the  reckless  man  plunge  in  the  boiling, 
eddying  water  far  below.  Amazed  and  horror 
struck  they  walked  away  without  the  slightest 
thought  that  the  poor  thief  would  ever  trouble  the 
world  farther.  Great  was  their  astonishment  to 
learn  days  afterward,  that  he  had  risen  to  the  sur- 
face, avoided  the  masses  of  floating  ice  and  the 
rapids,  and  far  down  the  river  made  his  way  to  the 
shore,  and  to  some  hiding  place,  from  whence  he 
might  emerge  and  prey  again  on  the  community. 

The  fellow,  however,  was  at  last  arrested  and 
brought  to  trial,  and  sentenced  to  another  seven 
years  imprisonment.  He  was  rather  an  obedient 
and  peaceful  prisoner,  and  an  excellent  workman. 
After  his  second  term  was  mostly  suffered  out, 
some  few  who  pitied  him  made  some  efforts  to 
procure  him  a  pardon,  but  without  success.  He 
became  very  restless,  and  longed  for  liberty,  much 


THE   RAILROAD   ROBBER.  121 

as  he  abused  it.  He  became  afflicted  with  soreness 
of  eyes,  increasing  until  it  was  feared  total  blind- 
ness would  be  the  result.  This  was  undoubtedly 
the  effect  of  the  application  of  some  poisonous 
substance,  applied  for  the  purpose  of  inducing  the 
Executive  to  pardon  him,  he  being  useless  and  ex- 
pensive, confined  as  he  was  to  the  hospital.  This 
was  n'ot  so  apparent  at  the  time,  and  many  became 
urgent  for  his  release,  which  was  at  length  granted. 
For  some  time  he  lived  on  the  liberality  of  benev- 
olent people,  slowly  recovering  his  sight,  but  much 
more  quickly  resuming  his  old  practices.  While 
yet  he  could  hardly  distinguish  one  object  from, 
another,  he  purloined  several  articles  from  his  best 
friends,  and  most  liberal  benefactors.  These  good 
men  let  the  matter  pass,  for  in  the  kindness  of 
their  heart,  they  were  loth  to  shut  the  miserable 
man  up  again.  As  soon  as  he  had  well  recovered, 
he  commenced  working  by  himself,  on  stock  brought 
from  abroad,  returning  the  shoes  when  made. 
Soon  he  married  and  appeared  disposed  to  live 
quite  retired.  He  was  quite  industrious,  and 
earned  sufficient  to  have  well  supported  him  without 
reckoning  his  ill-gotten  gain. 

Thus  two   or  three  years  passed  on.     He  was 
often  suspected  of  theft,  but  as  he  seemed  inclined 
to  keep  at  home  and  labor  diligently,  he  was  not 
11 


122  PEISON   REMINISCENCES. 

arrested  on  any  of  these  suspicions.  At  length 
various  articles  of  property  were  missing  from  the 
railroad  trains,  as  well  as  from  shops  and  other 
places  in  the  city.  The  company  were  called  upon 
to  meet  losses  to  a  great  amount,  and  the  matter 
seemed  to  grow  worse  and  worse.  The  vigilance 
of  sheriffs  and  police  officers  were  baffled  week 
after  week,  until  circumstances  very  unequivocal, 
pointed  to  our  quondum  parishioner,  who,  after 
all  the  good  preaching  to  which  he  had  listened, 
was  so  imprudent  as  to  fall  under  strong  sus- 
picions of  dishonesty.  He  was  arrested,  and  his 
house  and  its  appendages  examined,  and  lo  !  what 
plenty  of  good  things  were  found  there.  He  had 
laid  up  provisions  of  all  kinds  for  the  supply  of 
his  family,  and,  perhaps  a  surplus  for  sale.  That 
he  might  not  be  idle,  and  so  expose  himself  to 
temptation  to  dishonesty,  he  had  laid  in  a  fine 
stock  of  leather  of  good  quality,  and  prepared 
himself  to  "  supply  on  short  notice,  and  on  easy 
terms  an  excellent  assortment  of  boots  and  shoes," 
and  that  he  might  "  drive  a  smart  business  on  a 
small  capital,"  he  "  borrowed "  sundry  boxes  of 
"  ready  made." 

The  officers  found  it  much  harder  to  find  the 
merchant  than  the  merchandise.  But  officer 
Lowell  Eastman  was  not  the  man  to  be  baffled  by 


THE  RAILROAD  ROBBER.          123 

even  this  prince  of  shrewd  ones,  and  he  at  length 
had  him  forthcoming  before  "  His  Honor."  He  was 
tried  and  sentenced  to  seven  years'  imprisonment. 
Within  a  few  weeks  he  made  an  attempt  to  escape 
from  prison,  which  was  most  ingeniously  planned, 
and  in  a  masterly  manner  executed  with  great 
success.  For  a  considerable  time  he  wandered  in 
woods  and  by-places.  The  weather  being  quite 
cold,  his  feet  were  not  only  horribly  cut  and 
mangled,  but  terribly  frozen,  and  his  whole  condi- 
tion such  as  would  excite  the  pity  of  any  one 
toward  even  such  an  unprincipled  and  abandoned 
man  as  he  was  known  to  be.  Yet  even  now  he 
manifested  great  skill  in  evading  justice,  but  in 
vain,  for  his  old  friend  Eastman  was  on  his  track 
and  at  length  brought  him  "  home  again" 

The  miserable  man  now  finding  no  hope  of 
escape,  became  dejected  and  sullen.  It  was  a 
most  sickening  sight  to  look  upon  his  wasted  form, 
so  changed  by  the  exposures  and  privations  of 
his  fe,w  past  weeks,  that  they  who  had  known  him 
most  intimately  before,  would  now  hardly  recog- 
nize him.  He  seemed  disinclined  to  converse 
.  much,  and  especially  on  the  subject  of  religion. 
Indeed,  for  several  years  he  professed  no  regard 
for  religion,  but  on  all  occasions  manifested,  if  not 
rather  contempt,  at  least  an  entire  disrelish  for 


124  PRISON  REMINISCENCES. 

it.  It  was  plain  that  sin  had  destroyed  his  moral 
sense,  and  had  wholly  unfitted  him  for  esteem- 
ing the  things  "  lovely  and  of  good  report."  He 
did  not  deny  his  guilt,  but  yet  seemed  to  have  no 
feelings  of  regret  or  shame. 

Finding  him  inclined  to  suicide,  I  strove  to 
change  his  purpose,  by  remarking  that  perhaps  yet 
God  might  have  some  blessings  in  store  for  him, 
if  he  would  cultivate  penitence  and  turn  to  the 
Lord  with  full  purpose  of  heart.  "  I  should  think 
he  ought  to  have  by  this  time,"  was  the  reply,  indi- 
cating the  entire  want  of  gratitude  for  past  bless- 
ings, and  an  entire  lack  of  consciousness  of  his 
own  multiplied  and  aggravating  transgressions 
that  had  so  often  been  repeated  and  re-repeated. 
He  had  twice  attempted  self-destruction,  but  was 
prevented.  He  at  length  made  a  third  effort  which 
well  nigh  succeeded.  Passing  one  Sabbath  my 
usual  round  from  cell  to  cell,  to  hold  conversation 
with  the  convicts  and  to  exchange  their  books,  I 
found  him  hanging  by  the  neck,  suspended  by  a 
strip  of  leather  tied  to  a  nail  in  the  wall  of  his 
cell.  By  a  spasmodic  jerk  of  his  arm  and  a  gurg- 
ling sound,  I  saw  that  he  was  not  yet  dead,  and 
alarmed  the  guard.  A  considerable  delay  in  pro- 
curing the  key  of  his  door,  in  which,  seconds 
seemed  minutes  to  me,  gave  me  fearful  appre- 


THE  RAILROAD  ROBBER.  125 

hensions  that  we  should  be  too  late.  At  length 
the  door  flew  open,  and  we  had  him  on  his  couch 
in  an  instant.  After  terrible  struggles  and  suf- 
fering, he  recovered.  Miserable  and  worthless  as 
was  the  poor  fellow,  and  slight  as  was  the  hope 
of  moral  improvement,  I  felt  sensations  such  as  I 
pray  God  I  may  not  be  called  to  feel  again.  There 
was  a  fellow  being,  a  man  possessed  of  an  immor- 
tal nature,  rashly  rushing  into  the  presence  of  a 
just  and  holy  God,  unbidden  and  unprepared, 
madly  seeking  to  fly  from  the  sufferings  of  time, 
and  thus  to  go,  he  knew  not  where,  and  to  be,  he 
knew  not  what.  After  a  few  months  he  seemed 
in  better  health  and  spirits,  but  suddenly,  and 
after  but  a  half  hour's  awful  distress,  died. 

It  appeared  that  he  had  been  in  the  habit  of  swal- 
lowing poisonous  substances,  such  as  pieces  of 
plastering  taken  from  the  walls  of  his  cell,  and  his 
object  was  unquestionably  to  bring  on  a  bad  state 
of  health,  with  the  hope  of  pardon.  But  the  result 
was  different  from  what  he  expected,  and  his  death 
sudden. 

Now  let  the  youthful  reader  review  the  whole 
story,  and  judge  whether  even  in  this  life,  "  the 
way  of  the  transgressor  is  not  hard."  How  few 
have  suffered  so  much  in  the  cause  of  liberty  or  of 
patriotism  as  did  this  man  in  his  unworthy  career. 
11* 


126  PEISON  EEMINISCENCES. 

How  few  for  the  sake  of  Jesus,  and  to  obtain  a 
"better  resurrection,"  have  endured  so  much.  It 
is  a  terrible  thing  to  be  "led" captive  by  the  devil 
at  his  will."  Hard,  cruel,  and  oppressive  are  his 
exactions.  What  a  vast  aggregate  of  suffering  did 
poor  S.  endure.  "Wandering  in  the  wilderness  and 
on  the  mountains  by  day ;  creeping  forth  stealthily 
by  night,  alarmed  by  every  quivering  leaf  or  sud- 
den flaw  of  wind,  or  cry  of  bird  or  beast ;  startled 
in  his  dreams  a  thousand  times,  by  the  imagined 
hand  of  an  officer ;  and  more  than  all,  a  God  omni- 
scient, looking  with  fearful  displeasure  upon  him, 
and  an  inward  torment  like  a  scorpion's  sting, 
rankling  in  his  soul.  All  this  when  at  large,  and 
then  the  scorn  of  community,  the  loss  of  reputa- 
tion, (more  to  be  prized  than  life  itself,)  and  then 
the  sufferings  of  prison  life  for  so  many  long  years, 
and  all  this  for  no  valuable  consideration. 

To  toil  for  another  for  no  compensation  is  hard, 
but  what  slavery  is  like  that  of  sin.  Through  what 
a  painful  journey  he  travelled  to  reach  a  dishonor- 
able grave.  The  honest  citizen  looks  on  that  spot 
with  a  look  that  seems  to  say  "  It  is  a  cursed  soil," 
gather  not  my  bones  where  they  may  mingle  with 
his,  lay  me  any  where  else  but  there.  The  devout 
man  as  he  looks  on  that  hillock  is  sad,  and  men- 


THE  RAILROAD  BOBBER.          127 

tally  exclaims :  0,  the  great  day  of  dread  decision 
and  despair ! 

All  connected  with  such  a  life  is  revolting,  all 
connected  with  its  end  terrible,  for 

"  'Tis  not  the  whole  of  life  to  live, 
Nor  all  of  death  to  die." 

"  There  is  a  death,  whose  pang 

Outlasts  the  fleeting  breath  ; 
0,  what  eternal  horror  hangs 
Around  the  second  death." 


128  PRISON  REMINISCENCES. 


CHAPTER     XI. 

THE   PENITENT  MURDERER. 

IT  is  frequently  remarked  that  the  practice  of 
many  in  giving  publicity  to  accounts  of  murders, 
and  murder  trials,  and  especially  the  dying  addresses 
of  men  executed  for  that  horrible  crime,  is  perni- 
cious ;  especially  is  this  objected  to  where  the  crim- 
inal is  encouraged  to  assume  the  place  of  a  moral 
or  religious  teacher  on  the  scaffold,  and  as  though 
he  were  a  martyr  rather  than  a  terrible  transgres- 
sor, inform  the  multitude  that  he  forgives  all  men, 
and  dies  without  malice  toward  any,  and  then 
closes  with  a  religious  exhortation. 

Now  that  there  are  grounds  for  these  complaints 
I  admit ;  such  men  should  be  regarded  with  pity, 
and  should  have  all  possible  instruction  and  assist- 
ance in  aiding  them  to  repent,  if  perhaps  God  may 
grant  them  forgiveness.  But  they  should  know 
and  feel  the  greatness  of  their  guilt,  and  no  sym- 
pathy should  be  so  misdirected  as  to  abate  their 
sense  of  their  own  vileness. 

And  when  religious  hopes  are  at  length  enter- 


THE   PENITENT   MURDERER.  129 

tained,  and  religious  feelings  obtain  the  ascend- 
ency, they  should  be  cautiously  and  very  modestly 
expressed.  Alas,  for  the  poor  doomed  wretch 
when  he  imagines  himself  the  "lion  of  the  day," 
as  is  sometimes  said ;  and  when,  in  place  of  deep 
self-abhorrence  and  loathing;  his  vanity  is  excited 
by  the  publication  of  his  prison  sayings,  and  his 
expectation  that  his  affecting  farewell  address,  de- 
livered on  the  gallows,  will  read  well  in  the  papers 
of  the  day.  And  I  am  aware  that  when  the  crim- 
inal is  dead,  and  can  no  longer  be  affected  by  any 
transaction  on  earth,  that  the  living  may  be  so 
taught  as  to  form  a  sort  of  morbid  sympathy  for 
such  offenders,  inducing  one  to  look  on  crime  with- 
out that  abhorrence  which  every  one  should  culti- 
vate, and  which  is  perfectly  consistent  with  the 
most  tender  and  Christian  regard  for  the  poor 
transgressor. 

In  what  I  may  say  of  Ferguson,  or  of  any  other 
criminal,  I  hope  I  may  not  be  understood  as  enter- 
taining a  weakened  sense  of  the  vileness  of  such 
men.  A  long  and  intimate  acquaintance  with  this 
class  of  our  sinful  race  has,  I  trust,  not  at  all 
abated  my  detestation  of  crime.  And  why  should 
it  ?  Have  I  not  seen  it  in  all  its  hideous  deformity  ? 
have  I  not  witnessed  its  desolating  course  through 
the  scathed  and  blasted  community  over  which  I 


130  PRISON   EEMINISCENCES. 

have  watched  these  many  years  ?  Have  I  not  had 
ample  opportunities  to  observe  and  learn  its  disas- 
trous and  crushing  effects  on  thousands  of  innocent 
hearts,  bound  by  strongest  ties  to  the  transgres- 
sor ?  I  know  that  under  certain  circumstances,  a 
familiarity  with  crime  decreases  our  detestation  of  it. 
But  this  is  true,  also,  in  like  circumstances  of  famili- 
arity with  human  sufferings.  He  who  familiarizes 
himself  with  scenes  of  suffering,  without  actively 
interesting  himself  to  remove,  or  relieve  it,  will 
harden  his  heart ;  and  whoever  becomes  familiar 
with  scenes  of  sin  and  guilt,  must,  for  self-protec- 
tion, as  well  as  from  a  sense  of  duty  to  others, 
interest  himself  actively  on  the  part  of  virtue  and 
purity. 

In  like  manner  I  would  write  of  criminals,  not 
by  any  means  to  excuse  or  extenuate,  but  to  move 
the  heart  to  pity  and  the  hand  to  bless  the  erring 
one.  The  cases  of  evident  reform  should  be 
known,  that  good  men  may  be  encouraged  to  labor 
on  in  hope,  and  to  pray  with  increased  faith  and 
fervor  for  the  salvation  of  the  guilty.  How  do 
such  instances  of  divine  interposition  justify  and 
illustrate  the  blessed  declaration,  "As  I  live  saith 
the  Lord  God,  I  have  no  pleasure  in  the  death  of 
the  wicked,  but  that  the  wicked  turn  from  his  way 
and  live." 


THE   PENITENT   MURDERER.  131 

Bradbury  Ferguson  was  a  native  of  Sandwich, 
N.  H.,  and  belonged  to  a  family  that  had  for  sev- 
eral successive  generations  been  cursed  with  a  love 
of  rum.  Like  thousands  of  others,  they  were 
laborious  and  faithful  men,  and  when  sober  not  at 
all  inclined  to  vice.  But  the  fiery  deluge  had  passed 
through  at  least  three  generations,  blasting  the 
happiness  of  each  family  circle,  and  leaving  in  its 
course  all  its  accustomed  attendant  evils. 

No  wonder  then,  that  one  born  and  reared  thus, 
became  from  his  youth  a  drunkard.  It  could  not 
well  be  otherwise.  In  addition  to  a  hereditary 
love  for  alcohol,  to  be  nursed  in  infancy,  to  be 
quieted  to  sleep  supperless  by  a  dram,  to  be  trained 
to  look  to  it  as  a  "  panacea  for  all  the  ills  that 
flesh  is  heir  to,"  such  instructions  and  such  pro- 
pensity combining,  must,  unless  a  miracle  inter- 
pose, make  a  drunkard.  And  then  there  was  the 
public  sentiment,  almost  universally  prevalent  and 
practically  adopted  that  stimulating  or  intoxicating 
drinks  were  necessary  to  help  the  poor  laboring 
man  in  his  toils  and  hardships,  and  that  with  mul 
titudes  it  was  reckoned  as  "  lodging,  meat,  and 
drink,11  and  the  life  and  soul  of  all  pastimes  and 
festivities ;  all  this  seemed  to  fix  the  unhappy  man 
in  his  inebriation  almost  beyond  the  hope,  and 
quite  beyond  fhe  probability  of  reform. 


132  PRISON   REMINISCENCES. 

The  history  of  the  family  would  be  heart-rend- 
ing, though  not  at  all  singular  in  the  annals  of 
drunkenness.  Ferguson  was,  when  intoxicated, 
one  of  the  violent  and  quarrelsome  class,  'there 
are  some  who  make  very  stupid  and  sleepy  drunk- 
ards, perfectly  harmless,  and  incapable  of  either 
good  or  bad.  Another  class  become  extremely 
active  and  entertaining.  One  will  hold  forth  with 
great  vehemence,  if  not  eloquence,  on  themes  the- 
ological, political,  literary,  or  mixed ;  it  being  the 
natural  working  of  their  potations.  Who  of  us 
have  not  been  amused  in  our  young  days,  with  such 
outbursts  of  patriotism  from  some  drunken  orator, 
inspired  for  the  occasion,  clinging  to  the  sign-post 
as  if  remembering,  "  united  we  stand,  divided  we 
fall ;  "  with  what  wonderful  energy  did  he  assure 
us  of  his  determination  to  "  defend  our  liberties, 
or  perish  in  the  last  ditch."  Ah,  he  was  a  man  of 
spirit,  and  we  were  assured  that  with  him,  and  his 
like,  the  country  was  quite  safe.  Then  there  is 
another  class  who  are  made  extremely  polite  and 
kind,  but  excessively  sickening  and  silly.  Now  in 
whichever  of  these  classes  a  husband,  or  a  brother, 
or  a  son  is  found,  it  is  sufficiently  afflicting  and 
mortifying  to  the  family.  But  worse  the  affliction 
of  that  circle  which  embraces  a  drunkard  of  the 
stamp  of  Ferguson.  The  very  demon  of  rage 


THE   PENITENT  MURDERER.  133 

seemed  to  dwell  in  him  and  control  him,  and  no 
threats  could  intimidate,  no  persuasion  change,  no 
kindness  conquer.  The  early  history  of  Fergu- 
son need  not  be  written.  In  all  our  towns,  forty 
years  since,  there  were  many  of  that  "  same  sort." 
"  Good-hearted  boy  if  he  would'nt  drink  too  much." 
"Good  fellow  to  work,"  "kind  hearted,"  "ready  to 
help  always."  These  were  the  sayings  of  the  peo- 
ple of  the  neighborhood,  and  they  were  true.  He 
acquired  a  trade,  and  was  a  good  workman,  earn- 
ing enough  to  have  made  himself  and  a  family  com- 
fortable, but  spending  it  mostly  in  drink. 

His  known  habits  of  intemperance  did  not  pre- 
vent his  marrying  a  very  respectable  young  woman  j 
and  had  intoxication  been  then  abandoned,  his 
family  would  no  doubt  have  been  happy  and  pros- 
perous. Mrs.  Ferguson  was  a  good  wife,  and  a 
good  mother.  Ferguson,  also,  when  sober,  was 
kind,  attentive,  and  affectionate ;  and  they,  unques- 
tionably, but  for  the  demon  intemperance,  would 
have  been  in  prosperous  circumstances. 

All  the  blessings  of  a  home  where  true  affection 
presides,  and  where  humanity  approaches  nearest 
the  blessings  of  the  heavenly  state,  could  have 
been  theirs,  and  poor  Ferguson  might  have  closed 
a  well  spent  life  in  the  honorable  approval  of  God 
12 


134  PRISON   REMINISCENCES. 

and  man,  and  his  memory  have  been  cherished 
through  following  generations. 

Year  after  year  rolled  on,  bringing  its  seasons 
of  hope  sometimes,  but  more  often  of  despondency, 
to  the  poor  wife.  Her  children  were  growing  up 
around  her,  and  while  their  welfare  sadly  burdened 
her  heart,  they  were  still  a  great  comfort  to  her. 
But  the  days  of  evil  were  many.  Oh,  how  did  she 
look  with  dread  to  the  approach  of  every  public 
day.  The  military  muster,  the  annual  town  meet- 
ing, the  fourth  of  July,  and  all  like  occasions  were 
dreaded  like  the  day  of  death,  or  of  judgment  by 
the  guilty. 

Well  did  she  know  what  she  must  suffer.  Pain- 
ful experience  had  taught  her  what  would  be  her 
portion  for  those  days  of  merriment  and  relaxa- 
tion. 0,  how  faint  must  be  our  conceptions  of  the 
sufferings  of  such  a  wife  and  mother.  No  language 
can  adequately  describe  it.  No  imagination  reach 
the  reality.  If  ever  the  good  man's  indignation  is 
too  strong  for  his  religious  principle ;  if  ever  he 
finds  it  hard  to  keep  the  divine  injunction,  "  Bless 
and  curse  not ; "  if  ever  he  reluctantly  yields  to 
that  divine  saying,  "  Vengeance  is  mine,  I  will  re- 
pay, saith  the  Lord ; "  it  is  when  he  sees  beings 
in  the  human  form,  for  a  bit  of  silver,  put  to  the 
drunkard's  lips  the  maddening  cup,  knowing  that  its 


THE   PENITENT   MURDERER.  135 

contents  will  certainly  transform  that  kind  hearted 
husband  and  father  to  a  fiend,  and  that  his  return 
to  his  family  will  be  as  when  a  band  of  savages 
rush  in  to  torture  and  torment  the  helpless. 

Hark !  that  scream  of  agony,  that  half  stifled 
cry  of  suffering  innocence,  that  piteous  appeal  of 
young  voices  for  help  for  themselves  and  their  strug- 
gling, bleeding  mother.  Listen,  thou  man  of  iron 
heart  and  bloody  hands,  to  the  hoarse  voice  of  him 
thou  hast  turned  loose  upon  them.  0,  how  his 
oaths  and  curses  join  in  with  the  shrieks  of  his 
victims,  to  make  dreadful  music  for  thy  soul.  See, 
they  fly,  bleeding,  and  with  torn  garments,  as  haply 
they  escape  from  the  giant  grasp  of  the  madman. 
They  fly  to  seek  a  shelter  with  some  kind  neigh- 
bor, or  perhaps  in  some  lone  field  or  forest. 

Come  let  us  go  in.  Nay,  do  not  plead  another 
engagement,  or  talk  of  attending  to  your  own 
business.  This  is  your  own  work  —  come  along 
then  and  see  how  it  prospers.  Courage,  man, 
don't  tremble,  "  The  righteous  are  bold  as  a 
lion."  Walk  in.  Oh,  horrible !  look  around. 
Here  are  the  scattered  fragments  of  table,  chairs, 
crockery,  and  apparel  —  in  that  corner  skulks  a 
half-clad  child,  hardly  daring  to  breathe  freely  — 
there  another  is  crawling  forth,  encouraged  by  the 
sound  of  approaching  footsteps,  to  hope  for  rescue. 


136  PRISON  REMINISCENCES. 

There  is  the  wife,  the  mother.  Deep,  and  dread- 
ful are  the  wounds  the  wretched  man  has  inflicted 
on  her  delicate  frame ;  deeper,  and  more  dreadful 
those  inflicted  on  her  heart. 

She  raises  her  meek  eyes  to  heaven  in  gratitude 
that  help  has  come.  God,  help  thee  woman !  She 
turns  her  eyes,  swollen  with  grief  and  blows,  to 
where  her  wretched  husband  lies.  0;  what  a  look, 
"more  in  sorrow  than  in  anger."  No  vengeance 
speaks  in  that  eye,  no  curses  break  from  those 
lips,  no  revenge  nerves  that  arm.  How  is  this  ? 
0,  why  do  we  hear  her  whisper,  "  pity  him."  The 
spirit  of  him  who  prayed  for  his  murderers,  "  Fa- 
ther forgive"  has  settled  over  her  soul,  and  pos- 
sesses it.  But  stand  a  little  back.  It  were  better 
that  she  should  not  look  upon  your  face.  In  pity 
to  her,  stand  aside.  It  might  prove  a  trial  too 
severe  for  even  her  meek  and  patient  spirit.  And 
in  pity  to  yourself,  too,  man  of  guilt ;  for  to  meet 
the  eye  of  that  woman  would,  next  to  the  eye  of 
her  avenging  God,  be  terrible. 

Now  then  go  back  and  enjoy  the  hard  earned 
quarter  taken  from  that  man.  None  can  say  you 
gave  him  nothing  in  return.  0  no  !  That  you  paid 
him  well  there  can  be  no  doubt,  "  it  was  wholly  his 
fault  that  he  became  intoxicated,  miserable  fellow." 
O,  thou  child  of  the  devil,  thou but  "  the 


THE   PENITENT  MURDERER.  137 

Lord  rebuke  thee."  I  will  not  utter  the  burning 
thoughts  that  agitate  me.  Vengeance  will  over- 
take thee  at  last  j  justice  has  a  terrible  reckoning 
to  make  with  thee,  and  though  her  claims  may  be 
long  deferred,  yet  know,  they  will  at  length  be 
presented,  and  urged,  and  exacted.  Then  how 
canst  thou  hope  for  mercy,  rendering  none.  Go, 
now,  and  sleep  quietly  if  thou  canst;  go,  and 
dream  of  angels  and  ministering  spirits,  if  such 
communings  are  congenial.  But  no,  I  will  not 
mock  thee,  but  dismiss  thee  with  the  expression 
of  a  feeble  hope  that  yet  grace  may  come  to  thee, 
"the  chief  of  sinners." 

The  closing  act  in  this  sad  tragedy  now  comes 
on.  Ferguson  attended  a  military  muster  in  a 
neighboring  town,  and,  as  usual,  came  home  drunk. 
He  was  soon  raving  in  all  the  horrors  of  delirium 
tremens.  His  poor  wife  tried  in  vain  to  compose 
his  mind.  The  prevailing  impression  on  his  mind 
seemed  to  be  that  his  wife  was  the  devil,  and  had 
come  to  carry  him  to  his  own  place.  He  loaded 
his  gun,  charged  it  with  shot,  and  placed  himself  in 
an  attitude  of  defence.  As  the  poor  woman  in  her 
kindness,  sought  to  restrain  him,  and  not  knowing 
but  one  of  her  children  might  be  the  victim,  he 
discharged  the  contents  of  the  musket  into  her 
body. 

12* 


138  PRISON   REMINISCENCES. 

The  wound  did  not  produce  instant  death,  and 
she  begged  him  to  lay  her  on  the  bed.  He  took 
her  up  gently  from  the  floor  on  which  she  had 
fallen,  and  carefully  laid  her  on  the  bed.  His  con- 
sciousness (as  he  often  related  the  story  to  me,) 
now  gradually  returned.  He  stood  and  looked 
awhile  upon  the  sufferer,  and  the  terrified  children, 
who  were  weeping  around  their  dying  mother ;  and 
then  came  the  thought  of  guilt  and  danger.  He 
fled,  and  after  a  few  hours  of  agony,  death  released 
her  from  her  earthly  sufferings,  and  she  closed  her 
eyes  on  what  had  been  to  her,  at  least,  "  a  vale  of 
tears." 

In  a  secluded  spot  in  the  forest,  the  wretched 
man,  now,  in  part  conscious  of  what  had  taken 
place,  concealed  himself.  Imagine,  if  you  can,  his 
feelings.  They  were  not  those  of  a  malicious, 
cold,  deliberate  murderer.  There  was  no  fiendish 
satisfaction,  like  that  of  one  who  had  accomplished 
a  purpose  on  which  his  demon  heart  had  been  set. 
Far  from  that.  In  his  sober  hours  he  loved  his 
wife,  the  mother  of  his  children.  And  now  reason 
had  been  so  far  restored  as  to  give  some  dreadful 
intimation  of  what  had  been  done.  He  has  several 
times  given  me  a  relation  of  the  occurrences  of 
that  fatal  night;  as  there  are  some  parts  of 
his  narrative  that  are  quite  singular,  I  will  endeavor 
to  relate  them  as  he  gave  them  to  me. 


THE   PENITENT  MURDERER.  139 

The  night  was  very  dark,  and  as,  after  -gaining 
his  hiding  place,  he  endeavored  to  keep  perfectly 
still,  lest  he  should  be  detected,  all  was  silent  as 
the  abode  of  the  dead.  The  silence  at  length  be- 
came painfully  oppressive,  and  his  feelings  more 
and  more  intense  as  the  fatal  transactions  of  the 
evening  seemed  more  and  more  to  grow  from  indis- 
tinctness into  an  awful  reality.  It  was  as  if  some 
horrible  picture  had  hung  before  him,  on  which 
were  images  imperfect  and  dim,  yet  of  an  alarming 
aspect,  and  as  he  looked  at  them,  these  images  be- 
came more  and  more  life-like,  and  with  every  pass- 
ing moment,  sending  a  new  thrill  of  horror  and 
anguish  through  his  soul.  He  strove  to  turn  away 
his  eyes,  but  had  no  power  to  do  so  —  all  at  length 
was  plain  —  the  whole  picture  was  finished.  All 
his  past  life  seemed  to  pass  in  living  lines  of  fire 
before  him,  and  especially  that  part  of  it  with 
which  his  wife  was  associated ;  the  wife  of  his  early 
love,  whose  fond,  faithful  heart  had  always  been 
true  to  him,  and  whose  dying  eye  looked  up  from 
her  bloody  couch  with  pity  and  forgiveness.  The 
scene  seemed  to  chill  the  very  fountains  of  life, 
and  horrible  despair  seemed  for  a  time  to  possess 
him.  At  length  he  imagined  he  heard  in  the  dis- 
tance the  sound  of  a  human  voice.  He  listened, 
and  could  distinguish  music  soft  and  sweet.  It 


140  PRISON   REMINISCENCES. 

seemed  far  off,  but  approaching.  By  degrees  the 
sound  became  more  familiar,  until  he  could  plainly 
distinguish  the  voice  of  his  wife.  She  sung  as 
when  living,  only  a  thousand  times  more  sweetly, 
an  air  which  had  been  a  favorite  with  them  both. 
Her  voice  was  soft  and  plaintive,  and  as  she  came 
nearer  and  nearer,  he  could  distinctly  hear  every 
note,  and  mark  her  approach,  until  at  length  she 
seemed,  judging  from  her  voice,  close  to  him. 
With  a  strong  effort  he  opened  his  eyes  and  looked 
up.  There  she  stood  bending  over  him,  so  near 
he  could  almost  have  reached  her.  He  did  not 
think  it  a  corporeal  substance.  It  was  a  dim 
and  shadowy  form,  resembling  most  perfectly  his 
wife.  She  ceased  to  sing,  and  stood  bending  over 
him,  and  for  a  minute  or  two,  looking  him  full  in 
his  face,  with  a  look  beyond  all  description  pity- 
ing and  forgiving. 

Then  turning  slowly  away  she  sang  again,  louder 
and  more  cheerful,  the  sound  ringing  out  in  the 
stillness  of  the  night,  through  the  wilderness  far 
around.  He  heard  the  sound  die  away  in  the  dis- 
tance until  he  could  only  distinguish  it  faintly,  as 
when  he  heard  it  at  the  first.  The  visit  was  twice 
repeated  during  the  night,  she  coming  and  singing, 
and  passing  off  each  time  as  at  the  first;  only 
at  the  last  her  look  seemed  more  expressive  of 


THE   PENITENT   MUBDEEEB.  141 

sympathy  and  kindness,  and  her  music  more  strong 
and  enchanting.  I  asked  him  many  questions,  sug- 
gested some  doubts,  and  proposed  some  explana- 
tions, but  I  found  the  whole  a  reality  with  him  j 
and  I  think  he  had  not  one  lingering  doubt  that 
all  was  real.  At  all  events,  the  effect  wrought  on 
his  -mind  was  wonderful.  In  the  first  place  his 
despair  gave  way  to  hope,  "my  wife  forgives  me, 
she  pities  me,  and  comes  to  me  with  sweet  songs 
and  looks  of  kindness."  He  heard  with  less  dread 
the  approaching  footsteps  of  his  pursuers,  he  felt 
a  strange  confidence  in  all  his  gloomy  weeks  of 
jail  imprisonment.  The  scenes  of  the  court  room, 
and  all  the  details  of  his  trial  as  a  murderer,  were 
attended  *  with  the  recollection  of  that  forgiving 
spirit ;  and  with  the  roar  of  cursing  and  reproach 
from  the  infuriated  multitude,  there  was  always 
mingling  in  his  imagination  the  soothing  strains 
of  that  night's  music.  And  when,  to  the  awful 
question  proposed  by  the  clerk,  the  foreman  of 
the  jury  answered  guilty — and  when  his  sentence, 
"  imprisonment  for  life,"  was  pronounced,  he  was 
not  dismayed  —  still  he  thought  of  that  wonderful 
appearance,  accepting  it  as  proof  that  he  still  had 
grounds  of  hope,  at  least  that  there  was  one 
blessed  one  in  heaven  who  loved  him.  Nor  could 
the  combined  efforts  of  legions  of  infidels  make 


*•• 

* 


142  PRISON   REMINISCENCES. 

Bradbury  Ferguson  doubt  the  reality  of  the  exist- 
ence of  spirits  in  a  state  separate  from  the  body. 
He  seemed  to  think  it  an  insult  to  him  if  his  nar- 
rative was  doubted.  "  Do  you  think  I  am  a  fool  ? 
don't  I  know  my  own  wife  ?  don't  I  know  her 
singing  ?  and  could  I  look  into  her  eyes  for  min- 
utes, so  near  that  I  could  reach  her,  and  yet  be 
mistaken  ?  And  who  else  but  my  wife  would  come 
.to  comfort  me  and  sing  to  me  ?  " 

And  I  found  that  from  that  night  he  had  prayed 
to  God  daily,  for  mercy  and  grace,  being  encour- 
aged to  do  so  by  what  he  thought  he  saw  and 
heard.  He  evidently,  afterward,  saw  that  there 
had  been  a  sort  of  trust  in  the  supposed  interces- 
sion of  his  wife,  not  according  to  the  plan  of  sal- 
vation ;  but  to  his  dying  hour,  I  do  not  think  he  had 
a  solitary  doubt  of  the  reality  of  what  he  then 
related.  And  as  I  saw  no  harm  likely  to  result 
from  his  continuing  in  this  belief,  I  suggested  no 
doubt  for  years  before  he  died. 

I  leave  the  reader  to  his  own  opinion  regarding 
this  matter.  I  will,  however,  say,  that  were  I  a 
believer  in  modern  "  spiritualism,"  I  should  insist 
on  this,  as  one  of  the  best  instances  of  spiritual 
intercourse  with  the  living.  It  is  the  only  instance 
of  a  spiritual  visit  of  a  useful  character,  of  which 
I  have  read  or  heard  of  late.  Spirits  waked  from 


THE   PENITENT   MUKDEKER.  143 

the  "  vasty  deep  "  come  among  us  for  no  good  pur- 
pose whatever.  None  are  profited  by  their  commu- 
nications, except  the  leaders  of  the  "  entertainment." 
For  their  pecuniary  profit  we  are  asked  to  believe 
that  the  spirits  of  Wesley  and  Edwards  come  forth 
to  deny  the  religion  they  taught,  and  the  faith  in 
which  they  triumphed  at  the  last.  That  Franklin 
and  Webster  are  present,  to  "  play  fantastic  tricks  " 
like  clowns  in  a  circus,  and  that  John  Bunyan,  a 
tavern  keeper  in  the  "spirit  world,"  is  making 
some  progress  round  the  "  everlasting  circle," 
though  rather  outstripped  by  his  "  boarders " 
"  Tom  Paine  and  Ethan  Allen." 

And  here  the  profit  ends  j  we  poor  unbelievers 
being  only  treated  to  pranks  that  make  the  blood 
chill,  and  our  hair  to  stand  on  end  like  the  fretted 
porcupine.  Of  this,  however,  we  are  fully  con- 
vinced :  if  these  are  the  antics  of  inhabitants  of 
the  other  world,  there  is  vastly  more  need  of  reform 
there  than  here.  I  would  respectfully  suggest  to 
the  pure  minded  and  benevolent  leaders  in  this 
great  "  reformatory  movement,"  the  establishment 
there  of  a  school  of  manners,  and  that  none  but 
graduates  should  hereafter  be  "  called  up."  Also, 
an  asylum  for  idiots  and  insane ;  and,  as  many  of 
the  spirits  act  marvellously  like  drunken  men,  a 
good  "  prohibitory  liquor  law  "  might  be  of  essen- 
tial service. 


144  PEISON   REMINISCENCES. 

How  much  more  reasonable  the  account  Fergu- 
son, a  plain  and  unlearned  man,  gives  of  the  sup- 
posed visit  of  his  wife,  than  any  of  the  narrations 
of  even  learned  judges  or  apostate  ministers. 
She  came  with  a  dignity  befitting  an  inhabitant  of 
eternity,  with  pity  and  kindness,  such  as  pure 
spirits  delight  in,  with  songs  such  as  are  heard 
in  paradise,  on  an  errand  worthy  of  a  glorified 
intelligence,  and  to  perform  a  work  no  living  per- 
son had  the  courage  or  the  heart  to  undertake. 
Indeed  all  the  circumstances  of  the  case  would 
almost  justify  the  thought  that  infinite  goodness 
did  on  that  occasion  "  send  one  from  the'  dead." 

The  general  opinion  will  be,  undoubtedly,  that 
all  this  was  but  the  operation  of  a  delirious  mind, 
and  in  this  view  even  we  see  cause  of  gratitude 
to  God,  on  behalf  of  the  poor  wretch.  How  mer- 
ciful to  control  and  give  his  delirium  that  direction 
that  should  save  the  sinner  from  utter  despair,  and 
lead  his  mind  toward  heaven,  and  through  long 
years  operate  as  a  charm  to  draw  the  soul  upward, 
and  to  fix  it  in  the  firm  belief  of  great  religious 
truth. 

Whatever  may  be  the  opinion  of  the  reader, 
therefore,  as  to  the  matter,  I  trust  none  will  think 
I  have  related  it  as  a  mere  ghost  story  to  gratify 
curiosity,  or  to  amuse  the  children.  I  can  see,  I 


THE   PENITENT   MURDERER.  145 

think,  something  of  the  compassion  of  our  heavenly 
Father  towards  a  miserable  man,  overruling  (on  the 
supposition  of  delirium)  the  madness  consequent 
on  his  guilty  course,  for  the  moral  improvement 
and  better  preparation  for  more  direct  religious 
instruction. 

When,  in  1846,  I  entered  on  the  duties  of  the 
chaplaincy,  I  found  Ferguson  an  orderly,  well- 
behaved  prisoner.  He  loved  books,  and  soon  be- 
came quite  celebrated  for  his  historical  knowledge. 
But  his  principal  delight  was  in  mathematical 
studies.  He  went  through  and  through  all  the 
arithmetics  I  could  procure  for  him,  and  like 
another  Alexander,  sighed  for  more  worlds  to  con- 
quer. He  was  also  a  good  Sabbath  school  scholar, 
and  manifested  not  only  a  good  degree  of  biblical 
knowledge,  but  also  much  readiness  and  skill  in 
defending  the  doctrines  of  the  holy  scriptures. 

I  recollect,  how,  on  one  occasion,  he  gave  his 
sanction  to  my  remarks  in  a  manner  that  gave  indi- 
cation of  this,  and  much  amused  the  convicts.  A 
man  who  had  been  in  several  of  our  state  peniten- 
tiaries and  spent  some  thirty  years  of  his  life  in 
them,  was  rather  disposed  to  cavil  at  some  remarks 
made  as  to  the  purity  of  Christian  morals.  The 
prisoners  were  all  present,  and  as  great  liberty  was 
allowed  them  in  those  days,  any  one  might  suggest 
13 


146  PRISON   REMINISCENCES. 

doubts  or  make  inquiries,  provided  it  were  done  in 
a  respectful  manner. 

I  spoke  of  the  beautiful  morality  of  Jesus,  and 
all  seemed  to  assent.  The  old  man  H.,  however, 
was  not  pleased.  He  was  a  well  educated  and 
extremely  polite  man,  and  his  hatred  of  religion 
never  burst  out  in  floods  of  profanity  or  vulgar 
abuse,  but  rather  at  times  "  leaked  out "  in  some 
insinuation  or  significant  question. 

At  this  time  the  question  proposed  was,  whether 
"  I  had  ever  seen  one,  who  according  to  Christ's 
teaching,  was  the  practical  Christian."  I  assured 
him  I  had  seen  hundreds  of  such,  old  and  young, 
rich  and  poor,  sick  and  well,  living  and  dying,  beau- 
tiful examples  of  a  living  Christianity.  In  defense 
of  our  holy  Christianity,  I  became  quite  animated, 
and  should  have  been  eloquent,  but  for  one  defect, 
the  lack  of  the  requisite  qualities. 

But  H.  still  held  out,  alledging  he  "  had  not 
found  such,  though  an  old  man."  I  replied  it  made 
some  difference  where  a  man  had  spent  his  life, 
and  with  whom  he  had  associated.  I  paused  here 
knowing  that  H.,  being  a  shrewd  man,  would  in  his 
own  mind  finish  the  argument  and  make  the  appli- 
ation,  which,  not  wishing  to  be  too  severe,  I  chose 
he  should  do.  But  Ferguson  in  a  moment,  with 
most  provoking  plainness,  and  yet  with  great  good 


THE   PENITENT   MURDERER.  147 

humor,  took  up  and  finished  both.  "  That's  a  fact, 
parson  Smith,"  said  he,  "  that's  a  fact,  and  it  can't 
*be  expected  that  H.  and  I,  whose  lives  have  been 
spent  either  in  prison,  or  in  getting  fitted  for  it, 
should  have  found  many  beautiful  specimens  of 
Christianity."  H.  was  pretty  essentially  confused, 
and  I  never  heard  that  question  started  again  by 
him  or  any  other  of  those  there  present.  This, 
though  fitted  to  the  latitude  and  longitude  of  a 
state  prison,  may  answer  without  sensible  variation 
for  other  localities. 

In  the  winter  of  1850,  Ferguson,  who,  (as  we 
have  before  remarked,)  had  been  in  the  daily  habit 
of  prayer,  began  more  earnestly  to  desire  and  seek 
an  evidence  of  hia  acceptance  and  peace  with  God. 
His  conversation  was  principally  directed  to  this 
point,  and  his  prayers  became  fervent  petitions  at 
the  throne  of  grace.  He  at  length  rather  gradu- 
ally found  peace  in  believing,  and  his  mind  settled 
into  a  calm  composure  and  confidence.  From  that 
time  until  his  death,  (nearly  three  years,)  no  one  I 
think  who  knew  him  doubted  his  sincerity,  or  the 
genuineness  of  the  work  of  God  on  his  heart.  He 
gave  no  trouble  to  any  one.  His  health  began  to 
decline,  and  for  months  he  slowly  wasted  away 
until 

"  The  wearv  wheels  of  life  at  last  stood  still." 


148  PRISON   REMINISCENCES. 

His  confidence  in  a  sin-forgiving  God  was  more 
and  more  intelligent  and  firm.  He  to  the  last  re- 
tained his  love  for  his  children,  and  often  wept 
when  he  spoke  of  his  wickedness,  having  destroyed 
his  usefulness  as  a  father.  He  often  expressed 
deep  sorrow  for  his  course  of  intemperance,  which 
had  brought  such  fearful  calamities  upon  his  family. 
As  he  grew  weaker  he  still  retained  his  reason,  and 
to  the  last  hour  calmly  trusted  in,  and  loved  the 
Saviour,  whose  infinite  mercy  had  been  extended 
to  one  so  guilty  and  debased.  His  dying  counte- 
nance as  well  as  his  dying  words,  assured  us  that 
there  was  passing  from  us  a  "  sinnner  saved  by 
grace."  Thus  lived  and  died,  one,  who,  but  for 
intemperance,  that  destroyer  of  millions,  might 
have  been  living  in  the  midst  of  a  happy  family, 
and  as  an  honorable  and  useful  member  of  the  com- 
munity. He  fell  where  thousands  of  our  best 
intellects  have  been  blighted  and  destroyed.  A 
terrible  retribution  awaits  some,  whom  God  will 
recognize  as  participants  in  his  crime  ;  not  only  the 
man  who  furnished  the  last  dram,  under  the  influ- 
ence of  which,  he  murdered  his  wife,  and  completed 
his  own  degradation,  but  those  who  trained  him  up 
to  drunkenness  by  ministering  to  his  appetite. 

May  all  those   as  truly  repent,  and  find  as  full 
and  free  forgiveness,  and  as  abundant  mercy  at  the 


THE   PENITENT  MURDERER.  149 

last,  as  did  the  poor  victim  of  their  unhallowed 
traffic.  In  looking  over  this  narrative,  one  is  com- 
pelled to  exclaim,  "  What  is  man,  that  thou  art 
mindful  of  him  1 "  0,  what  in  all  the  intelligent 
creation  so  loathsome  and  so  abhorrent  to  a  virtu- 
ous mind  as  a  man  enslaved  to  appetite  or  passion, 
"  led  captive  by  the  devil  at  his  will,"  and  proof 
against  all  the  remonstrances  of  reason  and  of 
grace.  To  call  such  an  one  a  brute,  would  be  in- 
justice to  the  animal.  The  term  used  by  Whitfield, 
"half  beast  and  half  devil,"  is  hardly  too  strong; 
and  yet,  curse  him  not  whom  God  seeks  to  bless. 
The  Deity  in  heaven  stoops  to  help  him,  and  asks 
you  to  cooperate  with  Him  in  saving  the  wretch 
from  death.  Oh,  lover  of  God  and  suffering  hu 
manity,  . 

"  Join  bands  with  God  to  make  the  poor  man  live." 


13* 


150  PRISON   REMINISCENCES. 


CHAPTER    XII. 

MARTIN  SCHLEGEL. 

IN  November,  1850,  a  young  man  eighteen  years 
of  age  was  committed  to  our  State  Prison,  under 
the  name  of  Martin  Schlegel.  He  was  found 
guilty  of  stealing  a  horse  and  carriage.  Omitting 
many  stories,  that,  if  believed,  would  make  him 
famous  in  the  annals  of  crime,  but  of  which  no 
tangible  proofs  exist,  I  will  state  of  him  only  what 
I  know  to  be  true. 

He  came  to  Manchester,  N.  H.,  and  presented 
letters  of  recommendation  and  introduction  from 
several  eminent  clergymen  in  the  West  and  South, 
setting  forth  that  he  was  a  licentiate  in  the  minis- 
try of  the  Calvinist  Baptist  Church,  and  an  agent 
for  raising  money  for  the  building  of  a  German 
Baptist  Church  in  the  vicinity  of  New  Orleans. 
He  preached  on  the  Sabbath  in  that  city,  and  also 
in  Milford,  N.  H.,  a  few  days  after,  and  at  both 
places  with  much  ability.  In  Manchester  he  hired 
a  horse  and  carriage,  and  after  some  days  pawned 
them  to  a  man  in  Boston,  as  security  for  a  sum  of 


MARTIN   SCHLEGEL.  151 

money  paid  him,  promising  to  call  at  a  given  time 
and  redeem  them.  In  the  mean  time  the  owner 
suspected  him  of  dishonesty,  followed  and  arrested 
him ;  and  he  was  brought  to  trial.  The  evidence 
of  intentional  theft  was  slight,  and  the  presiding 
judge  remarked  to  me  that  he  thought  it  hardly 
justified  the  verdict,  on  which  he  was  sentenced  to 
five  years'  hard  labor  in  the  State  prison. 

In  person,  Schlegcl,  (as  he  called  himself,)  was 
decidedly  a  good-looking  German;  in  conversation 
remarkably  fluent  and  engaging,  and  in  manners 
very  easy  and  polite ;  furnishing  proof  most  con- 
clusive, on  but  a  short  acquaintance,  of  having  as- 
sociated in  highly  refined  and  aristocratic  circles. 
He  conformed,  however,  with  great  alacrity  and 
good  nature,  to  his  lowly  and  degraded  position. 
Still,  to  the  sagacious  eye,  it  was  evident  that  he 
felt  most  deeply  the  transition  from  a  high  rank  to 
the  condition  of  a  degraded  convict. 

But  he  put  on  no  airs  of  superiority,  claimed  no 
exemption  from  the  fare  or  work  of  a  common 
felon ;  and  though  by  no  means  swift  in  acquiring 
his  trade,  (that  of  a  shoe  maker,)  or  remarkably 
profitable  in  working  at  it,  yet  he  seemed  disposed 
to  do  all  he  could.  Towards  the  close  of  his  term 
he  was  transferred  to  the  cooking  department.  I 
soon  found  him  possessed  of  extraordinary  Intel- 


152  PRISON   REMINISCENCES. 

lect,  and  (for  one  so  young)  a  great  amount  of  gen- 
eral knowledge.  His  acquaintance  with  the  Eng- 
lish language  was  quite  imperfect,  but  he  made  in 
this,  as  in  everything  else  pertaining  to  books, 
rapid  progress ;  and  at  the  time  of  his  leaving  us, 
could  speak  and  write  our  language  correctly  and 
fluently. 

I  procured  for  him  text-books  of  the  Spanish 
and  Italian  languages,  of  which  he  had  some  knowl- 
edge, and  which  he  studied  with  much  apparent 
success.  He  also  gave  great  attention  to  the  the- 
ological works  of  American  and  English  authors ; 
and  seemed  to  appreciate  the  superior  character 
of  the  religion  they  taught,  over  the  semi-infidelity 
of  German  theologians. 

He  was  a  fine  writer,  and  furnished  some  arti- 
cles of  much  merit.  I  have  some  specimens  of 
his  poetic  talent,  which  I  consider  quite  good; 
especially  when  his  age  (he  was  but  twenty)  and 
his  slight  knowledge  of  the  English  language  are 
taken  into  the  account.  And  I  find  that  after  his 
liberation  from  prison,  the  same  estimate  was  put 
upon  his  talent  for  both  prose  and  poetry,  and 
also  for  public  lectures,  as  appeared  from  notes 
in  newspapers  where  he  had  resided.  I  will  here 
introduce  some  lines  composed  by  him  in  a  time 
of  ill  health.  They  were  beautifully  written  out 


MARTIN   SCHLEGEL.  153 

on  a  page  of  brown  paper  taken  from  the  cover 
of  one  of  his  books.  I  copy  from  it  as  it  now 
lies  before  me.  I  will  also  add  another  written 
in  his  cell,  into  which  the  moon  shines  beauti- 
fully, on  its  first  rising. 

SOBROW     SANCTIFIED. 

1.  My  spirits  droop  •with  sadness  now, 
Yet  would  I  with  submission  bow, 
My  heavenly  Father,  to  thy  will. 

I  would  not  breathe  a  single  thought 
With  unbelief  or  murmur  fraught, 
But  suffering,  own  and  love  thee  stilL 

2.  And  yet,  there  is  a  pensive  air 
Steals  o'er  me  ere  I  am  aware, 
And  clasps  me  in  its  soft  control; 
A  mildly  melancholy  mood 

Of  sickness,  and  of  solitude, 
Sad,  and  subduing  to  the  soul. 

3.  At  times  I  wipe  the  stealing  tear, 
And  think,  my  Father,  thou  art  here, 
And  I  am  thine,  forever  thine. 

Should  blow  succeed  to  chastening  blow, 
Thou  art  the  very  same,  I  know, 
And  future  blessings  dost  design. 

4.  Whence,  then,  this  sadness  that  I  feel  ? 
Why  do  these  tears  unbidden  steal  ? 
And  whence  this  deeply  mournful  mood  ? 
Still  must  I  weep  ?  then  vanish  pride, 
And  let  this  grief  be  sanctified, 

And  gush  in  holy  gratitude. 


154  PRISON   REMINISCENCES. 


6._  Breathe,  Holy  Spirit,  on  ray  pain, 
And  I  will  weep  o'er  Jesus  slain, 
Drench'd  in  his  bursting  blood  for  me, 
When  in  that  dreary  period 
Of  insult,  agony,  and  blood, 
He  languished  on  the  fatal  tree. 

6.  He  was  no  servant  once ;  as  God, 
He  saw  me  from  his  high  abode, 

Deep  sunk  in  sin,  and  guilt,  and  shamo: 
Compassion  kindled  with  that  look, 
For  me,  a  servant's  form  he  took, 
And  down  to  earth,  to  save  me,  came. 

7.  0,  it  might  gush  an  angel's  tear, 
To  see  the  "man  of  sorrows,"  dear, 
Rejected  and  despised  of  men; 
For  angels  knew  how  rich,  before, 
He  was ;  what  poverty  he  bore, 

To  bring  us  back  to  God  again. 

8.  Melt  thou,  my  soul,  'twas  for  thy  guilt 
Jesus'  atoning  blood  was  spilt. 

He  could  not  sink  in  suffering  lower: 
Oh,  if  thou  hast  one  spark  of  love 
For  him  who  left  his  throne  above, 
Go,  weeping,  go,  "  and  sin  no  more." 

MOONLIGHT. 

1.  Gentle  moon  —  a  captive  calls ; 

Gentle  moon  —  awake,  arise ; 
Gild  the  prison's  sullen  walls, 
Quench  the  tears  that  drown  his  eyes. 

2.  Throw  thy  veil  of  clouds  aside, 

Let  those  smiles  that  light  the  pole, 
Through  the  liquid  ether  glide, 
Glide  into  the  mourner's  soul. 


MARTIN    SCHLEGEL.  155 


3.  Cheer  his  melancholy  mind, 

Soothe  his  sorrows,  heal  his  smart ; 
Let  thine  influence,  pure,  refined, 
Cool  the  fever  of  his  heart. 

4.  Say,  fair  shepherdess  of  night, 

Who  thy  starry  flock  doth  lead 
To  the  rills  of  living  light, 
On  the  blue  etherial  mead, 

6.  At  this  moment,  dost  thou  see, 

From  thy  elevated  sphere, 
One  kind  friend  who  thinks  of  me? 
Thinks,  and  drops  a  silent  tear  ? 

6.  On  a  brilliant  beam  convey 

This  soft  whisper  to  his  breast, 

"  Wipe  that  generous  tear  away, 

"  He  for  whom  it  falls  is  blest ; 

7.  "  Blest  with  freedom  unconfin'd. 

"  Dungeons  cannot  hold  the  soul; 

"  Who  can  chain  the  immortal  mind? 

"  None  but  he  who  spans  the  pole. 

8.  "  Fancy,  too,  the  nimble  fairy," 

With  her  subtle,  magic  spell, 
In  romantic  visions  airy, 

Steals  the  captive  from  his  cell. 

9.  On  her  moonlight  pinions  borne, 

Far  he  flics  from  grief  and  pain, 
Never,  never,  to  be  torn 
From  his  home  and  friends  again. 

For  nearly  two  years  he  made  no  disclosure  re- 
specting his  parentage  or  rank  in  society,  otherwise 


156  PRISON   REMINISCENCES. 

than  in  general  terms,  claiming  both  to  have  been 
respectable.  He  frequently  remarked  to  me  that 
it  was  his  intention  to  keep  his  condition  a  secret 
from  his  friends  until  the  close  of  his  imprison- 
ment, knowing  that  the  consequences  of  such  a 
disclosure  would  be  fatal  to  the  mother,  and  terri- 
ble to  the  whole  family. 

This  resolution  he  kept,  as  above  stated.  I 
often  observed,  however,  that  anything  recalling 
the  idea  of  mother  deeply  affected  him.  At  length 
he  said  to  me  in  substance,  as  follows : 

"  I  cannot  longer  endure  the  thought  that  my 
poor  dear  mother,  for  three  long  years  has  had  no 
intelligence  from  her  first-born  son.  Oh,  how  many 
dreadful  nights  has  she  passed  sleepless,  and  wildly 
pondering  over  my  fate.  In  how  many  dreadful 
forms  has  she  in  her  imaginings  witnessed  my 
death,  or  perhaps  worse,  my  privations,  temptations, 
ruin.  I  shall  write,"  said  he,  "  though  at  the  risk 
of  exposing  my  shame  and  degradation.  Yes,  I 
must  relieve  that  fond  heart  of  its  dreadful  load." 
With  the  approval  of  Col.  R.  Dow,  the  excellent 
warden  of  the  prison,  I  consented  to  take  charge 
of  his  letters  sent,  mailing  them  where  his  friends 
would  not  be  likely  to  suspect  his  imprisonment, 
and  directing  those  letters  sent  in  return  to  my 
address,  keeping  the  same  object  in  view.  Schlegel 


"MARTIN  SCHLEGIL.  157 

agreed  to  practice  no  deception  in  the  matter,  fur- 
ther than  to  hide  from  his  friends  his  imprisonment. 
It  may  perhaps  be  questioned,  whether  even  this 
could  be  justified  as  consonant  with  sound  Chris- 
tian morals.  I  will  only  say  that  after  maturely 
weighing  the  matter  in  all  its  bearings,  I  consented 
to  this  plan,  yet  with  some  misgivings. 

In  his  letter  he  spoke  of  his  voyage  to  America, 
said  many  things  of  us  that  evinced  great  skill  and 
readiness  in  examining  and  judging  of  the  merits 
of  our  civil,  literary,  and  religious  institutions,  and 
gave  a  most  glowing  description  of  the  general 
prosperity  and  happiness  of  our  Republic,  but  at 
the  same  time  confessed  he  had  not  done  well  as 
yet,  though  he  was  disposed  to  blame  only  himself 
for  the  want  of  success. 

To  my  surprise  he  directed  his  letter  to  Sir 
a  "  Professor  of  Philology,  Dresden,  Sax- 
ony." I  doubted  whether  a  letter  from  a  convict 
addressed  to  such  a  titled  personage  as  "  My  be- 
loved father,"  would  be  responded  to,  but  to  my 
surprise,  in  due  time  I  received  an  answer  from 
that  nobleman  to  his  beloved  son  Martin.  Accom- 
panying, was  a  letter  from  his  mother,  full  of  such 
affectionate  sentiments  as  only  an  intelligent  fond 
parent  can  so  well  express. 

The  correspondence  continued  for  some  months, 
14 


158  PRISON   REMINISCENCES. 

as  will  be  more  particularly  noticed  elsewhere. 
By  my  request  he  drew  up  a  history  of  his  life 
with  the  fact  before  him,  that  I  should  make  use 
of  the  correspondence  of  his  friends,  and  other 
sources  of  information  to  confirm  or  refute  his 
statements.  I  also  reminded  him  that  I  would 
avail  myself  of  the  knowledge  I  had  of  the  names 
and  residence  of  his  friends  for  the  same  purpose. 
And  I  am  persuaded  he  gave  me  a  true  account 
of  himself;  for  I  have  not  found  a  single  statement 
of  what  I  insert  of  his  narration  contradicted 
from  any  one  of  these  sources.  I  now  present  the 
reader  with  that  part  of  his  history  that  I  deem 
well  sustained  by  corroborating  testimony,  and 
which  I  think  will  be  read  with  interest. 

"  I  was  born  at  Hamburg,  the  largest  commer- 
cial city  in  Germany.  I  never  knew  my  parents 
until  my  sixth  year.  My  father  was  at  the  time  of 
my  birth,  Sub-governor  of  the  Military  College  of 
St.  Petersburg,  (Russia,)  and  entertaining  some 
fears  lest  the  rigor  of  a  Russian  winter  should 
prove  fatal  to  the  delicate  health  of  my  mother, 
(and  as  she  also  wished  to  await  the  period  of  her 
confinement  at  her  mother's  in  Hamburg,)  my 
father  sought  for,  and  obtained  a  furlough  for  three 
months. 

"My  parents   at  once   embarked   for  Hamburg 


MARTIN   SCHLEGEL.  159 

where  at  the  house  of  my  maternal  grandmother, 
I  drew  my  first  breath.  Being  a  sickly  child,  the 
family  physician  thought  it  dangerous  to  expose  me 
to  the  fatigues  of  a  sea  voyage,  and  as  my  father's 
furlough  was  nearly  expired,  my  parents  left  me 
with  my  grandparents,  embarking  themselves  for 
St.  Petersburg. 

"  Here  I  spent  my  childhood.  When  I  was 
about  six  years  of  age,  my  father's  health  began 
to  decline,  and  the  physician  recommending  a 
milder  climate,  he  resigned  his  office  and  embarked 
for  Hamburg,  accompanied  by  his  wife.  When 
arrived  there,  I  left  the  happy  home  of  my  child- 
hood, and  accompanied  my  parents  to  Dresden, 
the  capital  of  the  kingdom  of  Saxony.  Here  my 
father  lived  for  a  year  or  two  in  retirement,  al- 
though urged  by  the  Russian  envoy  to  be  pre- 
sented at  Court.  As  his  health,  however,  was 
rapidly  improving,  he  became  desirous  to  enter 
again  into  active  life.  At  the  recommendation  of 
the  Emperor  Nicholas,  he  obtained  the  appointment 
of  '  Professor  of  Philology '  to  Prince  Albert,  heir 
presumptive- to  the  throne,  (now  King  of  Saxony, 
Ed.}  Three  years  afterward  he  was  made  Knight 
of  the  order  of  St.  Andrew,  and  immediately  ap- 
pointed privy  counsellor  to  his  majesty,  Frederic 
Augustus^  II.,  by  the  grace  of  God  (or  of  Satan,) 


160  PEISON   BEMINISCENCES. 

King  of  Saxony  and  Poland  (!!!)  Prince-  of  Mis- 
nia  and  Thuringia,  Duke -of  Anhalt,  Count  of  some- 
thing else,  etc.,  etc.,  etc.  I  may  add  that  my 
father  is  a  member  of  the  King's  Privy  Counsel  to 
this  day. 

"  At  the  age  of  fourteen  I  was  admitted  to  the 
University  of  Leipzig,  (the  ancient  Roman  Lipsia,) 
and  there  it  was  that  those  habits  were  formed, 
that  have  since  proved  my  ruin.  Our  German 
Universities  are  not  conducted  in  the  same  man- 
ner as  those  in  the  United  States.  In  Leipzig, 
where  there  are  constantly  from  one  thousand  to 
fourteen  hundred  students  in  theology,  law,  medi- 
cine and  philosophy,  they  are  the  law-givers,  and 
whatsoever  they  deem  right  is  right.  Do  they  wish 
to  have  a  feast,  the  wine  cellars  are  forcibly 
entered  at  night  time,  (the  watchmen  are  of  course 
afraid  to  interfere,)  the  poultry  yards  robbed,  and 
the  bakers  kindly  relieved  of  their  wares,  and  woe 
to  the  man  who  complains,  for  his  dwelling  house 
sooner  or  later  will  be  disturbed  by  a  masked 
band,  called  the  Avengers.  Theatres,  balls  and 
concerts,  form  the  order  of  the  day.  Duels  are 
fought  for  the  most  trivial  offenses,  and  many  a 
talented  young  man,  the  only  joy  of  his  aged 
parents,  and  the  pride  of  his  townsmen,  has  lost 
his  life  in  these  honorable  meetings. 


MARTIN   SCHLEGEL.  161 

"  Having  an  ample  quarterly  allowance,  I  plunged 
headlong  into  all  these  extravagant  habits,  in  which 
even  a  French  student  is  hardly  a  match  for  a  Ger- 
man, and  to  my  cost  I  learned  the  truth  of  the 
heathen's  assertion,  "  Facilis,"  &c.  Should  you  ask 
whether  theological  students  do  not  maintain  a 
more  moral  character,  I  am  sorry  to  say  they  do 
not.  This,  however,  is  owing  partly  to  the  world- 
liness  of  our  Professors  of  Theology,  who  visit 
balls  and  theatres  more  frequently  than  the  house 
of  God,  and  to  the  neglect  of  the  holy  scriptures. 
If  you  will  refer  to  your  standard  authority,  Wat- 
son's Dictionary,  pp.  695-6,  my  statements  will  be 
found  to  be  correct. 

"  The  Revolution.  —  Previous  to  1830,  the  gov- 
ernment of  Saxony  had  been  an  absolute  monarchy. 
The  French  revolution  of  that  year  aroused  the 
people  of  Saxony  to  a  sense  of  their  own  condi- 
tion. They  arose  in  a  body,  and  the  kingdom 
would  at  that  time  have  been  transformed  into  a 
Republic,  had  not  the  Prince  Regent,  (the  present 
king,)  granted  a  Constitution  which  converted  the 
government  from  an  absolute  to  a  limited  monarchy. 
For  the  space  of  eighteen  years,  Saxony  had  enjoy- 
ed the  blessings  of  general  prosperity,  but  the 
Constitution  was  generally  believed  to  be  defective, 
in  that  it  left  too  much  power  in  the  hands  of  the 


162  PRISON   REMINISCENCES. 

king  and  nobility.  The  French  revolution  of  1848 
gave  rise  to  a  new  outbreak  in  Saxony,  in  the  same 
year,  in  which  some  important  changes  were  made. 
These,  however,  were  not  satisfactory  to  the  peo- 
ple in  general,  and  in  1849,  a  third  revolution 
broke  out,  more  sanguinary  than  either  of  the 
preceding.  For  an  entire  week  the  people  fought 
against  the  military  forces  in  the  streets  of  Dres- 
den, streams  of  blood  flowed  down  the  streets, 
father  fought  against  his  soldier  son,  and  brother 
against  brother,  and  it  was  computed  that  over 
ten  thousand  lives  were  lost  on  both  sides.  But 
Saxon  bayonets,  aided  by  more  than  sixteen  thou- 
sand Russian  troops,  sent  to  aid  the  king,  proved 
too  much  for  our  undisciplined  though  brave  men, 
and  we  were  compelled  to  disband,  and  flee  under 
disguise  from  the  city.  Several  patriots  were 
made  prisoners,  tried  by  courts  martial,  and  shot, 
and  all  who  had  borne  arms  against  the  king,  were 
declared  traitors  and  outlaws,  and  condemned  to 
death.  Last  December  I  was  informed  that  his 
majesty  had  granted  a  general  amnesty  to  all 
political  offenders,  and  that  such  were  at  liberty 
to  return  home  as  had  fled. 

"  Revolutionary  Incidents.  —  It  was  about  four 
weeks  after  I.  graduated,  and  while  I  was  yet 
attending  lectures  at  the  university,  that  the  rev- 


MARTIN   SCHLEGEL.  163 

olution  of  1849  broke  out  with  unprecedented 
fury  in  Dresden.  The  leaders  of  the  people 
called  on  the  students  of  Leipzig  to  come  over  and 
help  them.  The  call  was  at  once  responded  to 
by  us,  and  at  6  P.  M.,  on  the  same  day  we  had 
received  the  letter,  we  monopolized  the  cars  for 
Dresden,  distant  about  one  hundred  miles.  We 
were  regularly  organized  as  a  regiment,  under  a 
Colonel  commandant,  Lieut.  Colonel,  and  Major. 
The  regiment  was  composed  of  several  compan- 
ies, according  to  the  associations  to  which  the 
students  belonged.  Each  company  was  command- 
ed by  its  'Senior,'  assisted  by  two  lieutenants 
chosen  by  himself. 

"Being  the  only  graduate  of  my  association, 
the  l  Anhattiner,'  I  held  the  command  of  our 
company.  Our  club  being  mostly  composed  of 
aristocrats,  (who  of  course  would  not  join  us,) 
numbered  but  thirty-five  men,  from  the  age  of 
fifteen  to  twenty-two,  fearing  neither  God  nor 
devil,  for  the  most  part  believed  in  neither.  Ar- 
rived in  Dresden,  we  reported  ourselves  to  Gen- 
eral Lenz,  commander-in-chief  of  the  insurgents, 
who  assigned  us  our  various  posts.  Barricades 
had  already  been  erected  in  the  most  frequented 
parts  of  the  city,  and  I  was  ordered  to  proceed 
with  my  men  to  Schlossgasse,  and  garrison  the 


164  PRISON   REMINISCENCES. 

two  barricades  leading  respectively  into  Frauen 
and  Bruedergrasse. 

11  Stationing  fifteen  men  under  the  command  of 
lieutenant  Linke,  at  the  barricade  on  Brueder- 
grasse, I  proceeded  with  the  remainder  to  the 
other  part  about  forty  rods  distant.  It  being  a 
cold  rainy  night,  we  placed  two  sentinels  on 
either  end  of  the  barricade  and  retired  to  the 
left  side  which  leaned  on  an  oyster  cellar,  which 
we  converted  into  a  temporary  guard  room. 
During  the  night  several  attacks  were  made  on 
us  by  a  body  of  light  infantry.  They  were,  however, 
repulsed  with  some  loss.  "We  took  an  ensign  who 
was  badly  wounded. 

"  The  next  morning  I  received  a  letter  from  my 
father,  who  had  been  made  acquainted  by  some 
officious  friend  with  my  movements.  In  this  letter 
he  peremptorily  demanded  my  instant  withdrawal 
to  his  country  seat,  '  or  if  you  will  fight,'  said  he, 
'fight  for  your  lawful  sovereign.'  To  this  I  re- 
plied, that  I  chose  to  remain  where  I  was.  At 
three  o'clock  P.  M.,  lieutenant  Taller  came  to  re- 
lieve me  and  to  deliver  a  message  from  my  Col- 
onel, which  called  me  directly  to  head  quarters. 
There  I  was  privately  informed  that  General  Lenz 
had  ascertained  that  a  steamer  was  expected  to 
arrive  that  night  from  '  Koningstein,'  (a  strong 


MARTIN   SCHLEGEL.  165 

fortress  on  the  Elbe,  twenty  miles  above  Dresden, 
to  which  the  royal  family  had  fled,)  with  military 
stores  for  his  majesty's  troops,  and  that  it  was 
highly  important  to  capture  the  boat,  as  this  would 
furnish  us  with  powder  and  balls,  of  which  we  were 
in  great  want. 

"  He  informed  me  also,  that  General  Lenz  had 
entrusted  the  expedition  to  our  regiment,  and  that 
as  I  was  better  acquainted  with  the  surrounding 
country  than  any  other  one,  (having  been  there 
ever  since  my  sixth  year,  my  college  life  excepted,) 
he  entrusted  the  expedition  to  me.  I  must  confess 
that  this  unexpected  disclosure  startled  me.  An 
honor  it  certainly  was  if  successful,  if  not,  it 
would  cost  me  my  head.  But  having  once  embark- 
ed in  the  cause,  I  resolved  to  execute  my  orders  to 
the  best  of  my  ability,  and  took  my  leave.  The 
enterprise  had  to  be  executed  by  stratagem,  and  I 
employed  the  following  'ruse  de  guerre'  Selecting 
six  of  our  most  daring  men,  I  clothed  them  in  the 
uniform  of  the  king's  soldiers  who  had  been  slain, 
taking  myself  the  uniform  of  the  ensign  we  had 
made  prisoner  the  preceding  night. 

"  Taking  a  barge,  we  left  the  city  in  quest  of  the 
steamer.  About  ten  miles  above  Dresden,  we 
descried  our  prize.  I  at  once  steered  alongside  the 
boat,  and  jumping  on  board  followed  by  my  men, 


166  PRISON   REMINISCENCES. 

I  requested  an  interview  -with  the  captain,  who 
knew  my  father  and  myself.  I  informed  him  that  I 
was  sent  by  Marshall  Cherreni,  (commander  of  the 
royal  troops,)  to  inform  him  that '  Newstadt,'  the 
part  of  the  city  in  possession  of  the  king's  troops, 
and  where  the  steamer  had  been  directed  to  land 
her  stores,  had  fallen  into  the  hands  of  the  in- 
surgents, and  that  the  Marshall  had  ordered  him 
to  land  his  passengers  one  mile  above  the  city,  and 
to  proceed  with  the  stores  to  the  '  Boule,'  which  I 
told  him  was  in  possession  of  his  majesty's  forces, 
but  which  was,  in  fact,  in  possession  of  our  friends. 
The  captain  deceived  by  our  uniform,  and  knowing 

me    to   be  the   son   of    Sir  ,  one    of   his 

majesty's  privy  council,  went  into  the  trap.  My 
plan  was  completely  successful.  The  passengers 
were  landed  above  the  city,  from  thence  the  steam- 
er proceeded  to  l  Brublesche  terrace,'  where  a  com- 
pany of  our  regiment  was  concealed  in  a  schooner 
near  by,  who  took  quiet  possession  of  the  steamer.' 
We  obtained  beside  the  military  stores,  six  hogs- 
heads of  brandy,  which  was  quite  acceptable. 

"  I  will  not  weary  you  with  a  recital  of  all  those 
scenes  of  blood  and  horror,  which  are  common  to 
all  civil  wars.  One  of  our  last  attempts,  was  to 
storm  the  arsenal,  when  we  were  encircled  by  the 
Royalists  and  indiscriminately  slaughtered.  In 
this  terrible  conflict  I  was  wounded  in  the  back  by 


MAETIN   SCHLEGEL.  167 

a  grape  shot,  and  in  my  thigh  by  a  bayonet  thrust, 
the  scars  of  which  are  visible  to  this  time. 
"Wounded  as  I  was,  my  father  refused  to  allow  me 
to  be  brought  to  his  house ;  but  his  early  friend, 
and  my  god  father,  Sir  Edward  L.,  the  father  of  my 
affianced,  received  me  hospitably,  although  an  aris- 
tocrat. Here  for  three  days  I  was  nursed  with 
unceasing  care  by  my  betrothed,  (the  lady  Anne  A. 
mentioned  by  my  father  in  his  letters,)  but  after 
the  city  was  taken,  search  was  made  for  the  rebels, 
and  I  was  obliged  to  leave  Dresden  in  the  night 
on  an  ox-cart,  with  three  of  my  companions. 

"  Arrived  in  Hamburg,  my  wounds  heal§d  slowly, 
and  as  soon  as  I  was  able,  I  embarked  for  Amer- 
ica, being  presented  with  five  hundred  dollars  by 
my  uncle  in  Hamburg.  The  rest  of  my  story  is 
soon  told.  I  came  to  Manchester,  hired  a  horse 
and  buggy,  and  proceeded  to  Boston,  where  I 
pawned  the  property  to  a  broker  for  four  weeks, 
paying  the  interest  in  advance.  Before  I  had  time 
to  redeem  it,  I  was  arrested,  tried,  and  found  guilty 
of  theft ;  and  sentenced  to  the  state  prison  for  five 
years,  half  of  which  has  now  expired.  What  I 
have  suffered  in  this  time  is  indescribable. 

And  though  no  tears  bedew  the  eye, 
Nor  outward  signs  of  grief  appear, 

The  brain  may  burn  without  a  sigh, 
The  heart  may  break  without  a  tear." 


168  PRISON   REMINISCENCES. 

The  part  of  the  narrative  that  is  not  supported 
by  corroborating  testimony,  I  have  omitted,  resolv- 
ing to  publish  only  what  is  supported  by  such  evi- 
dence. That  he  is  the  son  of  Sir  Henry , 

there  can  be  no  doubt ;  eighteen  letters  have  pass- 
ed to  Martin,  from  the  father,  the  mother,  and 
uncle,  (brother  to  his  mother,  and  a  military  officer 
well  known  through  the  civilized  world,)  and  a 
young  military  officer,  a  class-mate  of  Martin. 

The  letters  sent  were,  of  course,  all  carefully 
examined  by  the  Warden  and  myself,  as  were  also 
the  letters  received.  All  bore  the  regular  post- 
marks of  Dresden  and  the  intermediate  places. 
All  the  father's  bore  the  seal  of  his  knighthood. 
We  also  communicated  with  the  father  through  a 
most  respectable  house  in  New  York ;  receiving 
various  articles  through  them,  from  the  father  and. 
mother.  Three  drafts,,  amounting  to  one  hundred 
and  seventy-five  dollars,  were  accepted  by  that 
house ;  and  in  a  personal  interview  with  one  of 
the  firm,  (a  gentleman  born  in  the  same  city  with 
Martin,)  I  found  him  well  acquainted  with  the  fam- 
ily. I  have  also  myself  corresponded  with  the 
father  directly. 

The  uncle  referred  to,  as  furnishing  money  for 
his  escape  to  America,  is  a  military  gentleman  of 
high  standing,  whose  name  is  not  unknown  to  those 


MARTIN   SCHLEGEL.  169 

acquainted  with  the  present  military  establishment 
of  Germany.  From  this  uncle  three  letters  were 
received,  in  which  an  extraordinary  attachment  to 
this  nephew  was  clearly  manifested.  From  the 
correspondence  thus  carried  on,  I  find  all  the 
essential  parts  of  this  narrative  well  supported. 
In  a  letter  frt)m  the  father  I  find  the  following: 
"  In  consequence  of  the  serious  illness  of  his  Maj- 
esty, a  special  Council  of  State  has  been  selected 
from  the  ordinary  council  of  Twelve,  consisting  of 
six  members,  (besides  his  Royal  Highness,  tho 
Crown  Prince,  who  presides,)  for  the  government 
of  the  kingdom."  Of  this  sub-council,  he  informs 
us  he  is  a  member. 

In  respect  to  his  connection  with  the  revolution 
of  1849,  the  letters  of  all  his  friends  make  fre- 
quent reference  to  it,  fully  sustaining  the  narra- 
tive ;  while  the  sad  scars  on  his  person  show  the 
character  of  his  wounds.  That  on  his  back  gave 
him  most  trouble,  as  he  feared  the  inference  might 
be  unfavorable  to  his  courage ;  and  he  most  ear- 
nestly desired  me  to  assure  all  concerned,  that  he 
was  charging  bravely  up  to  a  circular  battery  when 
he  received  that  wound ;  and  we  Americans  allow 
a  very  brave  and  distinguished  man  to  deprecate  a 
"fire  in  the  rear." 

I  will  only  add  that  the  letters  of  the  mother 
15 


170  PRISON  REMINISCENCES. 

are  exceedingly  beautiful.  She  is  undoubtedly  a 
lady  of  strong  and  highly  cultivated  intellect,  and 
possessed  of  those  qualities  of  mind  and  heart 
that  make  the  accomplished  and  affectionate  parent. 
Her  letters,  also,  breathe  the  spirit  of  true  piety. 
The  following  is  a  translation  of  part  of  one  of 
them,  written  in  the  German  language.  The  trans- 
lation, of  course,  but  imperfectly  conveys  to  the 
reader  the  beauties  of  the  original. 

Mr  DEAEEST  MARTIN  : 

"Whenever  the  post-boy  brings  a  letter  from 
you,  it  is  always  a  holiday  for  me.  With  sorrow, 
I  learned  from  your  last,  that  you  had  been  sick. 
This  is  a  terrible  thought  to  me.  To  be  sick  in  a 
strange  land,  among  strangers,  and  so  far  from 
your  parents ;  for  only  a  mother  knows  how  to 
nurse  her  child.  But  you  are  (praised  be  God,)  well, 
and  I  am  happy.  The  Almighty  will  further  pro- 
tect you,  and  screen  you  from  all  danger.  My  dear 
boy,  tell  me  freely,  whether  or  not  you  are 
pleased  with  America.  If  not,  return.  Your 
.father  has  already  informed  you  1<hat  his  Majesty 
has  been  graciously  pleased  to  grant  a  general 
amnesty  for  all  political  offenders.  You  may, 
therefore,  return  with  perfect  safety ;  and  that  our 
house  and  our  arms  are  opened  to  you,  I  need  not 


MARTIN   SCHLEGEL.  171 

mention.  Yes,  return.  You  have  already,  and 
too  early,  gone  through  the  school  of  privations 
and  hardships,  and  I  feel  —  I  know  it  —  experi- 
ence has  taught  you  a  lesson,  which  even  a  Straube 
(a  noted  demagogue,)  cannot  efface.  My  dear 
Martin,  I  congratulate  you  on  your  twentieth  birth 
day.  Happy  am  I  that  you  are  now  out  of  your 
teens,  and  I  hope  also  out  of  your  mad,  revolution- 
ary schemes.  Your  brothers  are  charming  chil- 
dren, and  give  me  great  delight.  But  you,  my  dear 
child,  you  are  my  first-born;  and  what  yearning 
has  a  mother  for  her  best-beloved,  though  erring, 
child.  I  always  imagine  I  see  you  quite  strong 
and  well ;  and  the  thought  always  brings  tears  into 
my  eyes.  You  left  me  a  lad  —  you  will  return  a 
man.  0  yes,  return.  Bless  your  mother  with 
your  sight  once  more,  and  then  I  will  cheerfully 
die." 

In  view  of  all  the  circumstances,  and  with  the 
cooperation  of  Col.  Dow,  who  had  retired  from 
his  office  as  Warden,  and  with  the  consent  of  G. 
"Webster,  Esq.,  then  Warden,  I  arranged  the  papers 
containing  the  copy  of  his  trial;  the  minutes  of 
the  State's  attorney  and  the  presiding  judge,  and 
presented  them  to  the  Executive ;  giving  them  in 
substance  the  facts  set  forth  in  these  pages,  and 


172  PEISON   EEMINISCENCES. 

placing  in  their  hands  copies  of  much  of  the  cor- 
respondence, and  such  proofs  of  its  truthfulness  as 
I  could  produce.  His  excellency,  Gov.  Martin,  with 
his  usual  caution,  examined  the  matter  well ;  and 
after  some  delay,  with  the  unanimous  advice  of  his 
Council,  consented  to  pardon  him,  on  condition 
that  his  father  would  furnish  the  money  for  his 
return  to  Germany,  and  his  pledge  to  make  no  delay. 
It  was  a  day  of  indescribable  happiness  to  the  lib- 
erated convict.  I  attended  him  to  New  York, 
where  we  met  many  of  his  countrymen,  some  of 
whom  were  acquainted  with  the  family  of  Martin. 
After  engaging  his  passage  to  Hamburg,  the  vessel 
not  being  ready  to  sail,  I  left  him  and  returned. 
For  several  months  I  heard  nothing  from  him.  At 
length,  taking  up  a  newspaper  published  in.  the 
great  West,  and  looking  at  a  notice  of  a  very 
respectable  and  flourishing  institution  in  the  vicin- 
ity, I  saw  it  announced  that  professor  Martin 

had  been  engaged  as  professor  of  German  Litera- 
ture, and  congratulating  the  institntion  on  the  acces- 
sion of  so  learned  and  accomplished  a  scholar.  I 
immediately  wrote  him.  He  excused  his  breach 
of  promise  made  the  Executive  to  return  to  Ger- 
many, by  presenting  a  good  many  plausible  reasons, 
though  I  cannot  say  to  my  satisfaction.  I  coun- 
selled with  a  judicious  friend  of  high  ecclesiastical 


MARTIN  SCHLEGEL.  173 

standing,  and  we  agreed  to  watch  his  deportment 
carefully ;  but  so  long  as  he  continued  to  do  well, 
to  make  no  disclosure  of  his  former  history.  I 
am  sorry  to  say  that  at  the  close  of  his  second 
term,  he  became  so  involved  in  pecuniary  matters 
that  his  connection  with  the  institution  was  dis- 
solved ;  and  he  left  the  place  with  rather  a  dam- 
aged reputation,  though  I  have  not  learned  that  he 
was  guilty  of  anything  positively  criminal. 

I  have  thus  very  imperfectly  sketched  the  history 
of  one  who  might,  with  established  principles  of 
integrity,  and  a  sound  religious  conversion,  have 
been  an  eminent  man,  and  a  blessing  to  our  race. 
He  possessed  some  very  amiable  traits  of  charac- 
ter, and  with  all  his  faults  and  foibles,  one  is  in- 
clined still  to  love  him.  It  was  his  misfortune  to 
be  separated  from  that  most  estimable  mother, 
during  the  years  of  his  childhood ;  leaving  him  un- 
disciplined and  ungoverned.  Then,  after  a  short 
time  spent  with  his  parents,  came  his  removal  to  a 
German  University,  at  the  early  age  of  fourteen 
years ;  and  who  can  think  it  strange  that,  in  that 
place,  where  genuine  religious  influence  is  almost 
unknown,  and  where  spoiled  young  men  do  as  they 
please,  almost  without  restraint;  where  reckless 
students  from  all  parts  of  Europe,  (most  of  them 
infidel  in  doctrine,  and  in  morals  unboundedly 
15* 


174  PBISON  REMINISCENCES. 

licentious,)  are  the  pestilent  examples  placed  be- 
fore the  inexperienced.  Who,  I  ask,  could  expect 
any  good  result  ?  It  would  have  been  a  miracle,  if 
this  young  man  had  come  forth  with  integrity  of 
heart,  or  soundness  of  morals. 

And  further,  the  refusal  of  his  father  to  allow 
him,  when  dreadfully  wounded  and  mangled,  to  be 
brought  into  his  house ;  and  leaving  him  to  welter 
in  his  blood,  or  to  die  as  the  victim  of  enraged 
monarchy;  has,  in  my  judgment,  much  to  do  with 
the  wayward  course  of  the  son.  It  threw  him  into 
a  land  of  strangers,  with  no  skill  to  labor,  and  no 
friend  to  help.  He  felt  it  keenly,  and  I  have  no 
doubt  this  decided  him  not  to  return  to  Germany. 
It  made  his  repugnance  to  monarchy  a  perfect  mad- 
ness, and  his  respect  for  the  founders  of  free  in- 
stitutions almost  idolatry.  I  recollect  on  passing 
the  sacred  place  on  Bunker  Hill,  where  the  brave 
and  accomplished  Warren  fell,  he  threw  himself  on 
his  face,  and,  weeping,  kissed  the  stone  that  marks 
that  spot.  Russia  shared  his  most  inveterate  ha- 
tred, for  the  part  she  took  in  the  Dresden  insur- 
rection ;  and  while  I  write  these  lines,  were  I,  as 
a  Yankee,  to  guess  his  whereabouts,  I  should  locate 
him  in  the  "  Crimea." 


PARKER  PAUL.  175 

CHAPTER     XIII. 

PARKER  PAUL. 

PARKER  PAUL  was  a  native  of  Exter,  N.  H.  He 
svas  not  of  pure  African  descent,  but  I  think  one 
quarter  white.  The  family  was,  in  point  of  intel- 
lect, much  superior  to  the  majority  of  families, 
whether  white  or  black.  The  name  of  one,  at 
least,  is  familiar  in  New  England,  as  a  very  talent- 
ed and  useful  minister  of  the  gospel,  who  was  ex- 
tensively known  and  as  extensively  respected. 

The  immediate  ancestors  of  Parker,  however, 
were  very  vicious.  Their  reputation  was  of  the 
basest  kind,  and  the  circumstances  of  the  birth  of 
the  poor  fellow  too  bad  to  be  named  on  these  pages. 
It  may  well  be  supposed  that,  entering  life  thus, 
his  prospects  were  of  the  most  forbidding  charac- 
ter. Indeed,  the  condition  of  a  colored  child  in 
New  England  is  most  discouraging.  We  boast  of 
our  hatred  of  slavery,  and  are  loud  in  our  pro- 
fessions of  attachment  to  the  doctrine  that  "all 
men  are  born  free  and  equal."  But  our  practice 
as  a  community,  is  sadly  at  variance  with  our  pro- 
fession. I  do  not  think  that  this  is  so  much  the 


176  PRISON  REMINISCENCES. 

result  of  prejudice  against  color,  as  a  foolish  love 
of  sport  and  mischief.  The  little  urchin  who  is 
so  unfortunate  as  to  have  a  black  skin,  finds  him- 
self treated  much  as  a  pet  dog,  or  monkey.  If  a 
lively  and  intelligent  child,  he  is  the  village  pet. 
His  pranks  of  innocent,  or  even  of  a  mischievous 
character,  are  related  in  his  hearing,  and  he  is 
commended  as  a  "  smart  little  darkey."  And  if  per- 
chance he  becomes  a  little  too  bold  in  his  mischief, 
and  somewhat  troublesome,  many  still  commend 
him ;  so  that  the  praise  of  smartness  more  than 
compensates  for  the  ill-timed  and  lawless  punish- 
ment his  conduct  may  have  procured  him.  Thus 
he  grows  up  with  no  proper  training,  having  no 
higher  ambition  than  to  sing  Nigger  songs,  "jump 
Jim  Crow,"  and  otherwise  amuse  the  villagers. 

If,  on  the  other  hand,  the  lad  is  rather  dull  or 
petulant,  he  is  kicked  about  like  a  bad  dog  who 
evades  the  uplifted  arm  of  one,  only  to  receive  the 
descending  blow  of  another  enemy.  He  soon 
learns  to  retaliate,  and  to  make  reprisals.  The 
community  in  general  entertain  no  sympathy  for 
him.  The  voice  of  kindness  or  instruction  is  sel- 
dom heard  from  any  one.  Wherever  he  goes  lie 
hears  the  exclamation,  "  The  worst  nigger  on 
earth"  and  he  comes  to  count  men  as  his  enemies. 
He  joins  issue  with  them,  and  fights  his  way  along 


PAEKBR   PAUL.  177 

as  best  he  can."  His  hand  is  against  every  man, 
and  every  man's  hand  against  him.  The  poor  fel- 
low through  much  tribulation,  finds  his  way  to  the 
jail,  the  state  prison,  or  perhaps  to  the  gallows. 

Thus  without  intending  any  harm,  or  really  hav- 
ing any  wish  to  persecute  the  negro  race,  we,  by 
injudicious  management,  spoil  most  of  the  colored 
children  of  New  England.  The  birth  and  parent- 
age of  Parker  Paul,  was,  as  we  have  already  re- 
marked, of  a  character  that  subjected  him  to  the 
worst  possible  inconveniences.  No  respectable 
person  would  associate  with  the  family.  The  col- 
ored people  of  Exeter  themselves,  (who  as  a  class 
were  highly  respectable,)  would  have  no  connection 
with  them.  Good  and  pious  persons  felt  that  under 
the  existing  circumstances,  the  proper  training  of 
the  boy  was  impossible.  Some  efforts  were  no 
doubt  made,  probably  no  community  would  have 
done  better,  but  poor  Parker  grew  up  a  nuisance, 
and  in  time  became  a  terror  to  the  people. 

He  was  a  young  man  of  commanding  form  and 
good  features  for  one  of  his  race,  tall  and  well 
proportioned,  of  great  muscular  strength  and 
activity ;  he  was  altogether  what  one  of  the  south- 
ern "patriarchs  "  would  call  a  very  valuable  boy." 
His  intellect  was  also  good,  much  above  an  average, 
and  his  proud  spirit  could  not  well  submit  to  play 


178  PRISON   REMINISCENCES.    » 

the  monkey,  or  amuse  the  villagers  by  songs  or 
dancing.  He  would  not  be  the  pet  dog  of  the 
place,  and  easily  took  the  other  course  we  have 
indicated.  It  is  not  my  purpose  to  follow  this 
unfortunate  young  man  through  his  career  of  folly 
and  of  crime.  The  testimony  of  the  whole  village 
was,  "  he  is  a  very  bad  fellow."  I  have  been  in- 
formed that  at  one  time  he  seemed  to  be  the  subject 
of  some  religious  impressions,  but  these  soon  van- 
ished leaving  him  of  course,  worse  than  before.  At 
length  he  committed  the  horrible  offense  that 
blighted  forever  the  earthly  prospects  of  a  most 
worthy  female,  and  consigned  the  miserable  offen- 
der to  the  state  prison  for  life.  Terrible  indeed 
was  the  rage  of  the  infuriated  multitude  against 
him,  and  had  it  not  been  restrained  by  the  more 
prudent  arid  sober,  the  prison  would  have  been  rob- 
bed of  its  inmate,  and  the  wretched  man  have  lost 
the  precious  opportunity  of  seeking  the  salvation 
of  his  soul. 

For  a  time  at  least,  the  prison  seemed  to  him  as 
a  desirable  sanctuary  of  retreat  from  the  deep  and 
awful  curses  of  the  people,  whose  indignation 
knew  no  bounds.  Nor  to  the  day  of  his  death 
would  the  majority  of  that  community  consent  to 
his  release  by  pardon.  Considering  his  past  life, 
and  especially  the  offense,  so  brutal  and  surpass- 
ingly cruel,  they  can  hardly  be  blamed. 


PARKER   PAUL.  179 


i 


And  now  that  the  iron  gate  has  closed  forever 
upon  the  miserable  man,  let  us  go  in  and  look  at 
him.  Let  us  sit  down  and  acquaint  ourselves  with 
his  thoughts,  and  inquire  of  him  concerning  his 
past  and  present  and  future.  He  wonders  why 
God  ever  gave  him  a  place  among  the  living.  His 
earliest  recollections  recall  only  scenes  of  wicked- 
ness and  wretchedness.  They  bring  up  none  of 
those  hallowed  scenes  so  dear  to  your  heart  and 
mine.  Ah,  that  bright  morning  of  life  on  which 
others  look  back  with  undying  interest  even  from 
hoary  age  !  The  virtuous  father,  with  look  and 
voice  of  love,  bending  his  manly  form  to  mingle  in 
your  childish  sports ;  then  when  these  sports  had 
wearied,  told  you  of  your  heavenly  father. 

"  And  as  the  bird  each  fond  endearment  tries, 
To  tempt  its  new  fledged  offspring  to  the  skies, 
He  tried  each  art,  reproved  each  dull  delay, 
Allured  to  brighter  worlds  and  led  the  way." 

And  then  that  mother  too,  whose  blessed  image 
is  associated  with  all  your  young  days  j  that  true 
mother,  whose  gentle  voice  soothed  your  childish 
griefs,  or  fretful  tempers,  and  who  by  all  those  arts 
which  none  so  well  know  how  to  practice  as  a 
mother,  subdued  your  wrong  dispositions,  checked 
your  unreasonable  desires,  and  wisely  cooperated 
with  the  divine  influence  to  eradicate  the  evil  from 


180  PRISON   REMINISCENCES. 

your  heart.     That  mother,  fond  yet  faithful,  who 
by  precept  and  example 

"  In  teaching  you  the  way  to  live, 
Hath  taught  you  how  to  die." 

There  too  was  the  charm  of  young  hearts  and 
voices,  brothers  and  sisters,  loved  and  loving.  0, 
how  busy  recollection  brings  along  the  panorama 
of  the  past  to  you.  There  as  it  passes  are  friends, 
dear,  true,  virtuous  —  bright  skies  above  you,  a 
smiling  earth  beneath  and  all  around  you,  and  ten 
thousand  treasured  memorials  of  your  early  and 
later  days. 

0,  man,  loved  and  cherished  by  such  friends,  nur- 
tured and  matured  in  such  an  earthly  paradise, 
look  not  with  cold  contempt  or  with  an  unpitying 
heart  on  that  man,  guilty  as  he  is.  He  is  now 
thinking  of  the  past.  His  panorama  moves  on  be- 
fore his  mind's  eye.  He  looks,  but  no  scenes  of 
loveliness  greet  him.  All  along  the  moving  picture 
are  painted  images  of  evil.  No  forms  of  beauty 
or  kindness  bend  over  his  cradle,  no  voice  of  in- 
struction enlightens  his  ignorance,  no  reproof  cor- 
rects his  waywardness,  no  word  of  kindness  cheers 
his  sadness. 

No  finger  points  to  heaven,  no  note  of  prayer 
falls  on  his  ear  and  sinks  into  his  heart.  He  had 
heard  somewhere  that  there  is  a  God,  the  creator 


PAEKER  PAUL.  181 

of  all,  and  he  asks  in  the  bitterness  of  his  soul, 
why  was  I  brought  into  existence  ?  All  along  the 
heavens  above  me  have  been  shrouded  in  the  storm- 
cloud,  and  no  bow  of  promise  has  ever  betokened 
9fiy  good  for  me.  Baleful  examples  have  minis- 
tered to  my  ruin.  Cold  contempt  or  heartless 
indifference  have  fixed  me  in  the  love  and  practice 
of  vice.  All  the  past  is  an  unvarying  scene  of 
moral  desofation  and  death. 

And  then  the  present.  Oh,  the  gloomy  present. 
As  I  muse,  my  heart  becomes  like  these  walls  of 
stone,  cold  and  hard  and  insensible.  He  now  looks 
into  the  future,  but  what  are  his  prospects.  No 
day  of  liberation,  to  which  to  look  forward.  Were 
there  a  limit  to  his  imprisonment,  though  that  day 
were  far  off,  yet  like  a  remote  star  it  would  shed 
some  faint  light  to  cheer  the  horrible  gloom.  But 
limitless  bondage  —  dreadful  thought.  In  some 
far  off  day  these  gates  will  open  to  me,  but  I  shall 
pass  them  unconsciously.  They  who  love  me  not 
nor  lament  me,  will  carry  forth  my  worn  and  wasted 
body  to  a  convict's  burial,  and  before  that  hour  my 
soul  will  have  passed  away,  and  where  shall  I  find 
my  destined  place  ?  Shall  I  my  everlasting  days 
with  fiends  or  angels  spend?  Thoughts  like  these 
were  often  expressed  to  me  by  this  poor  man  dur- 
ing my  long  intimacy  with  him. 
16 


182  PEISON    REMINISCENCES. 

Several  years  had  passed  since  his  imprisonment 
when  I  entered  on  the  duties  of  the  chaplaincy. 
I  learned  that  his  general  conduct  had  been  good, 
but  that  he  was  subject  to  occasional  seasons  of 
violence,  when  the  spirit  of  wrath  and  revenge 
seemed  to  possess  him,  and  exercise  entire  control 
over  him.  He  was  at  such  times  very  troublesome 
and  dangerous ;  all  who  were  within  his  reach  felt 
themselves  in  great  jeopardy.  He  was  with  'much 
difficulty  restrained  from  acts  of  violence,  and  on 
some  occasions  came  to  blows  with  his  fellow 
prisoners.  On  one  such  occasion  a  convict,  an 
"  Italian,"  of  whom  something  is  said  in  another 
place,  in  a  paroxysm  of  anger,  sprang  at  him  and 
with  a  sharp  knife  he  had  been  using,  cut  him  from 
a  little  back  and  below  the  ear,  quite  to  the  corner 
of  the  mouth,  inflicting  a  deep  wound  nearly  reach- 
ing the  jugular  vein,  and  leaving  to  his  death  a 
most  undesirable  scar. 

Not  satisfied  with  this,  he  drew  his  knife  across 
the  abdomen,  cutting  nearly  around  it,  and  so  deep 
as  to  mark  the  membrane  in  some  places.  The 
poor  fellow,  however,  was  mercifully  preserved,  as 
we  hope  for  his  good,  and  by  great  care  and  kind 
attention  at  length  recovered. 

On  my  first  acquaintance  with  him  he  could  read 
but  poorly,  but  soon  made  good  improvement  and 


PAEKEB  PAUL.  183 

became  quite  fond  of  books.  He  also  manifested 
much  skill  in  penmanship,  and  made  some  profi- 
ciency in  arithmetic.  On  my  first  inquiry  as  to  his 
religious  views  and  feelings,  I  found  him  much  in 
the  frame  of  mind  indicated  in  these  last  pages. 
Notwithstanding  his  ignorance  of  religious  truth, 
he  had  for  some  time,  (under  the  faithful  instruc- 
tions of  my  predecessors,)  as  he  informed  me, 
thought  seriously  of  his  condition  as  a  sinner,  and 
at  times  he  had  sought  the  Lord  by  prayer.  These 
attempts  would,  however,  be  given  up  after  a  few 
days,  and  then  again  after  a  season  renewed.  I 
first  endeavored  to  impress  upon  his  mind  the  great 
truth,  that  there  was  one  in  heaven  who  cared  for 
him,  that  God  loved  him  with  a  pitying  love.  He 
could  hardly  be  persuaded  to  entertain  this  idea 
for  some  time,  but  hesitated.  "Why  then  has  he  not 
given  me  some  proofs  of  that  love  such  as  he  gives 
most  men  ?  Why  am  I  of  a  race,  hated,  despised, 
persecuted  —  every  where  abused?  Why  was  I 
left  to  circumstances  which  almost  of  necessity 
brought  me  here  ?  These  questions  must  be  met. 
I  showed  him  that  God  spared  not  his  own  son,  but 
freely  gave  him  up  as  a  ransom  for  us  all,  and  that 
this  one  gift  was  infinitely  better  than  all  that  God 
had  withheld  ;  for  that  although  he  had  not  given 
him  wealth,  fame  or  friends,  yet  that  in  Jesus'  love 


184  PRISON   REMINISCENCES. 

for  sinners,  and  his  redemption  of  the  soul,  provi- 
sion had  been  made  for  a  better  than  an  earthly  in- 
heritance, and  that  heavenly  love  was  more  than 
sufficient  to  compensate  for  earth's  hatred  or  con- 
tempt ;  and  that  in  the  retributions  of  eternity,  there 
was  ample  scope  for  the  justification  of  God's  moral 
government,  in  regard  to  those  things  which  are 
painful  mysteries  to  us  at  present.  The  thought 
that  the  Father  of  all  cared  for  him,  seemed  to 
waken  up  new  feelings.  It  was  a  new  idea,  and 
one  that  much  encouraged  him  to  seek  after  God. 
He  began  once  more  to  pray  and  read  the  Bible 
diligently,  and  was  anxious  to  converse  on  the  sub- 
ject of  experimental  religion.  At  times  he  would 
seem  not  far  from  the  kingdom  of  heaven,  and  then 
some  provocation,  perhaps  slight  and  unintentional, 
would  stir  up  his  violent  temper  and  blight  the 
hope  of  his  reform.  I  strove  to  fix  in  his  mind 
the  necessity  of  divine  influence  in  order  to  the 
subduing  of  this,  and  all  his  unholy  appetites  and 
propensities,  urging  that  the  "  carnal  mind  is  en- 
mity with  God,"  and  as  his  own  experience  plainly 
showed,  "  was  not  subject  to  the  law  of  God,  neither 
indeed  can  be."  I  reminded  him  how  his  best 
resolutions  were  inefficient,  and  his  strongest  efforts 
unavailing,  and  that  this  state  of  things  would  con- 
tinue until  the  stronger  than  the  strong  man  armed 


PARKER   PAUL.  185 

should  bind  him  and  cast  him  out ;  in  a  word,  that 
the  power  of  divine  grace  only  could  accomplish 
the  work,  and  that  while  he  carefully  watched  over 
all  his  temper  and  passions  to  prevent  their  break- 
ing out  and  triumphing,  he  should  cry  to  God  in  un- 
ceasing prayer  for  deliverance  from  the  dominion 
of  sin.  While  thus  from  time  to  time  the  subject 
was  continued,  he  seemed  to  be  almost  persuaded 
to  cast  all  on  the  Saviour,  and  cry  "  God  be  merci- 
ful to  me  a  sinner !"  and  then  discouraged  and 
gloomy.  At  length  all  my  hopes  of  him  were  well 
nigh  destroyed  by  another  freak  of  anger,  in  which 
he  severely  injured  several  prisoners,  and  was  sub- 
dued only  after  a  dreadful  struggle. 

The  Warden  very  properly  shut  him  in  solitary 
for  several  weeks,  and  I  had  nearly  given  up  all 
hope  of  him.  His  case  is  utterly  hopeless,  was  the 
general  sentiment,  and  the  only  question  seemed  to 
be  how  he  could  be  best  secured  from  harming 
others.  The  time  passed  on,  and  at  length  I  found 
Paul  in  his  cell  again.  I  was  struck  with  his  ap- 
pearance. Physically  he  had  not  suffered  as  I 
expected  he  would  ;  but  his  countenance,  his  words, 
his  whole  demeanor  were  quite  changed. 

"  I  have  been  praying,"  said  he.  "  I  became  fully 
satisfied  that  I  was  in  nearly  a  hopeless  condition. 
I  saw  in  my  solitary  state  as  I  pondered  over  my 
16* 


186  PRISON  REMINISCENCES. 

past  life  and  present  condition,  that  to  cry  to  God 
in  good  earnest  was  my  only  hope,  and  I  have  done 
so ;  and  though  he  does  not  yet  deliver  my  soul,  yet 
I  think  he  has  been  with  me  and  has  given  me  some 
good  desires,  and  some  tenderness  of  heart." 
From  this  time  I  noticed  a  marked  change  in  his 
views  of  himself,  no  longer  seeking  to  extenuate 
his  sins,  no  longer  harboring  revengeful  feelings 
towards  others,  and  withal,  looking  upward  for 
help  from  above.  I  had  several  opportunities  of 
praying  with  and  for  him,  at  which  times  he  prayed 
most  fervently  for  his  own  salvation,  and  with  tears 
and  very  strong  emotion,  seemed  striving  to  enter 
in  at  the  "straight  gate."  At  length  God  who 
always  hears  the  penitent, 

" revealed  His  gracious  name, 


And  changed  his  mournful  state." 

Great  indeed  was  the  joy  of  that  poor  man 
when  Jesus  appeared  to  him,  the  one  altogether 
lovely  and  the  chiefest  among  ten  thousand.  His 
religious  experience  was  to  me  of  an  uncommonly 
satisfactory  character.  With  him  "  old  things  were 
done  away,  and  all  things  became  new."  His  feel- 
ings were  not  of  a  uniform  kind  to  be  sure  j  at 
times  I  found  him  oppressed  with  doubts.  It  was 
often  suggested  to  his  mind  that  he  was  too  vile  a 


PABKER  PAUL.  187 

sinner  to  find  such  great  mercy,  and  that  he  must 
have  deceived  himself.  In  these  hours  of  tempta- 
tion and  fear,  I  often  found  him  much  depressed, 
but  never  manifesting  any  disposition  to  give  over 
his  efforts  to  serve  God.  And  soon  the  cloud 
would  break  in  blessings  on  him,  and  with  all  the 
overwhelming  exstacy  which  is  a  marked  character- 
istic of  the  negro's  piety,  he  would  rejoice  with  ex- 
ceeding joy.  "  Such  was  my  transport  this  morn- 
ing," said  he  to  me  one  Sabbath,  "  that  I  involunta- 
rily laid  hold  on  my  couch  to  keep  from  going  up, 
for  I  really  felt  as  if  I  were  rising  upward."  At 
such  times  I  never  saw  human  countenance  more 
expressive  of  joy,  and  it  often  required  great  effort 
on  his  part  to  keep  the  silence  which  the  prison 
rules  required.  But  a  still  more  satisfactory  proof 
of  the  genuineness  of  his  conversion  appeared  in 
his  subdued  temper.  I  think  to  the  day  of  his 
death  he  was  never  found  sullen  or  wrathful  in  a 
single  instance,  and  that  he  never  gave  occasion  for 
reproof  from  an  officer.  It  was  clearly  seen  that 
he  not  only  sinned  not  in  this  respect,  but  that  he 
had  no  disposition  of  heart  to  do  so.  There  was 
a  quietness  and  contentment  so  unlike  his  former 
self  as  to  fix  a  strong  conviction  in  the  minds  of 
all,  that  he  was  at  heart  another  and  a  better  man. 
His  love  for  the  Bible  and  other  good  books  was 


188  PRISON  REMINISCENCES. 

remarkable,  and  in  Sabbath  school,  as  well  as  pri- 
vate conversation,  he  manifested  that  his  reading 
was  not  without  much  profit.  Another  marked 
change  was  visible  in  his  reconciliation  to  his  con- 
dition. He  often  spoke  with  much  apparent  grati- 
tude of  this,  ascribing  it  all  to  the  grace  of  God 
that  had  made  his  prison  home  even  an  endeared 
place  to  him.  Said  he  to  me, "  0,  how  I  have  cursed 
these  cold  stone  walls,  and  these  dark  iron  doors, 
and  the  officers,  as  they  looked  in  upon  me.  I  have 
cursed  them  not  only  in  my  heart,  but  how  often  in 
a  suppressed  voice  muttered  deep  curses  with  my 
lips,  and  in  language  at  the  thought  of  which  I  now 
shudder. 

"  But  now  I  feel  an  attachment  to  this  cell  in 
which  Jesus  appeared  to  me  as  my  deliverer  at  the 
first,  and  in  which  he  has  so  often  blest  me.  I  love 
this  stone  floor  on  which  my  tears  of  penitence 
fell,  and  on  which  I  have  so  often  knelt  in  prayer, 
and  towards  the  officers  I  have  no  feeling  but  that 
of  love."  At  another  time  he  remarked  that  from 
a  consideration  of  his  debased  position  in  society, 
on  account  of  his  color,  he  had  often  thought  that 
could  his  skin  be  taken  off  inch  by  inch  and  its 
place  be  supplied  by  a  white  one,  he  would  gladly 
submit  to  the  operation.  "  But  now,"  said  he,  "could 
the  change  be  made  by  the  expression  of  a  wish,  I 
do  not  think  I  should  dare  to  utter  it." 


PAEKER  PAUL.  189 

The  thought  seemed  to  be  this :  "  God  has  loved 
me  as  a  negro ;  Jesus  died  for  me,  a  negro ;  the 
spirit  of  grace  and  truth  visited  me  as  a  negro,  and 
renewed  my  soul.  The  Deity  does  not  scorn  to 
dwell  in  the  heart  of  the  humble  and  contrite  Afri- 
can. All  this,  and  all  the  blessings  of  His  grace 
and  providence  have  been  bestowed  on  me  as  one 
of  the  outcast  race.  I  had  rather  still  remain  as 
God  formed  me,  and  in  the  class  of  humanity  where 
he  has  acknowledged  and  blest  me." 

One  year  and  a  half  passed  on  after  the  great 
change  above  related,  and  then  came  the  day  that 
more  fully  tests  the  character  of  our  religion. 
Paul's  giant  frame  was  laid  on  the  bed  of  death. 
For  some  months  it  was  evident  that  he  could  not 
much  longer  survive  the  wasting  effects  of  prison 
life.  His  noble,  erect  form  was  beginning  to  bend 
under  the  burden,  and  unmistakeable  symptoms 
admonished  him  to  be  ready.  These  were  per- 
ceived by  him,  but  without  dismay  or  dread.  As 
long  as  his  physician  thought  best,  he  continued  at 
his  work,  manifesting  a  wish  to  do  all  he  could. 
When  brought  to  the  hospital  it  was  pleasant  to 
sec  and  converse  with  him.  The  attendants  found 
him  quiet  and  thankful  for  their  attention.  He 
expressed  the  utmost  gratitude  to  the  officers  for 
their  kindness,  and  his  sorrow  for  having  given 


190  PRISON  BEMINISCENCES. 

them  so  much  concern  and  trouble  in  former  years. 
For  all  his  former  acquaintances  he  also  expressed 
much  affection,  and  the  most  anxious  desire  for  their 
religious  welfare.  He  felt  no  emotion  of  ill-will 
toward  any  who  had  assisted  in  his  prosecution,  but 
great  sorrow  for  his  crime.  His  confidence  in 
God's  mercy,  as  manifested  through  the  Redeemer, 
was  unshaken.  He  seemed  to  rest  his  whole  soul 
on  the  divine  promise,  and  with  remarkable  clear- 
ness to  read  his  title  to  the  inheritance  with  the 
saints  in  light.  "We  often  joined  in  prayer  together, 
in  wfiich  he  greatly  delighted,  and  seemed  much 
blest.  All  his  sufferings  were  endured  with  uncom- 
plaining patience,  and  through  his  sickness  no  mur- ' 
mur  was  heard.  At  the  last  in  perfect  conscious- 
ness and  composure,  he  commended  his  soul  to  the 
keeping  of  its  great  Redeemer,  and  we  trust  that 
they  who  attended  Lazarus  to  his  home  in  paradise, 
were  present  on  their  mission. 

"  Spirit,  leave  thy  house  of  clay; 

Lingering  dust,  resign  thy  breath: 
Spirit,  cast  thy  chains  away ; 

Dust,  be  thou  dissolved  in  death. 
Prisoner,  long  detained  below, 

Prisoner,  now  with  freedom  blest, 
Welcome  from  a  world  of  woe, 

Welcome  to  a  world  of  rest." 


THE  ROMAN.  191 


CHAPTEE    XIV. 

THE   ROMAN. 

"  I  AM  A  ROMAN,"  was  the  proud  boast  of  thou- 
sands, in  the  palmy  days  of  that  great  empire ; 
and  so  is  Peter  De  Nos,  the  only  Roman  who  ever 
gained  a  residence  in  our  excellent  institution,  vul- 
garly called  a  "  State  Prison."  Of  this  Roman  I 
propose  to  speak.  I  would  do  so  with  all  venera- 
tion for  the  land  that  gave  him  birth.  "  Proud, 
mighty  city  of  the  world,"  "Eternal  city,"  "Land 
of  the  Caesars,"  "Seat  of  the  true  Church,"  and 
birth  place  of  Peter  De  Nos.  Who  can  speak  of 
thee  or  thine  but  reverently. 

I  claim  for  Peter  that  he  is  a  worthy  son  of 
Rome,  and  should  be  ranked  with  its  founders, 
statesmen,  and  heroes.  The  immortal  founders  of 
that  city,  dwelt  in  a  solitary  place,  cherished  and 
nourished  by  the  maternal  Lupus.  They  honored 
their  Alma  Mater,  by  plundering  largely  the  sur- 
rounding countries,  and  by  supplying  their  reason- 
able wants  from  any  and  every  source.  They  also 


192  PRISON   REMINISCENCES. 

founded  a  city :  "  The  Eternal  City."  Peter  also 
chose  his  home  in  the  deep  recess  of  a  forest. 
"  0,  for  a  lodge  in  some  vast  wilderness,"  fully  ex- 
presses the  sentiment  of  this  great  but  modest  Ro- 
man, as  he  prepared  an  humble  cave,  and  bowed 
his  lofty  spirit  to  his  lowly  circumstances.  He 
now,  like  a  good  Roman,  provided  for  himself 
abundantly;  asking  no  doubtful  questions  as  to 
ownership  or  title.  He  is  a  practical  man,  and 
troubles  not  himself  with  fine-spun  theories  of 
abstract  rights.  He  cannot  pause  to  settle  great 
moral  questions.  It  is  true,  Peter  founded  no  city, 
nor  did  he  imitate  his  countrymen,  the  founders  of 
that  great  empire,  in  their  vigorous  and  rapid 
courtship,  by  which  their  rude  homes  were  changed 
to  an  earthly  paradise.  But  this  was  not  his  fault. 
The  times  and  circumstances  (to  say  nothing  of  the 
fates  or  the  sheriff's,)  were  unpropitious.  Allow- 
ing for  these,  few  would  have  done  better.  His 
possessions  increased  daily.  Clothing  in  endless 
variety ;  food  in  rich  abundance ;  all  the  necessa- 
ries and  many  of  the  luxuries  of  life,  crowned  his 
labors ;  and  had  he  been  unmolested  in  his  profit- 
able, though  unostentatious  "course  of  duty,"  he 
would,  perhaps,  long  ere  this,  have  made  some" 
American  lady  the  happy  sharer  of  his  heart  and 
home. 


THE  EOM1N.  193 

If  the  captious  are  disposed  to  inquire  "whether, 
like  the  immortal  twins,  he  drank  from  wolfish 
fountains,  I  reply  that  anological  reasoning,  which 
is  the  method  of  deducing  from  the  similarity  of 
things  in  certain  respects,  the  conclusion  that  they 
are  similar  in  other  respects,  proves  that  he  did. 
"We  have  shown  several  similarities,  hence  the  con- 
clusion. If  this  is  not  sufficient,  then  prove  that  he 
did  not. 

The  true  Roman  is  seen  in  Peter's  military  ex- 
ploits. It  will  be  recollected  that  the  most  terri- 
ble foe  of  Rome  was  Carthage  in  Africa.  Peter 
inherits  the  eternal  enmity  that  was  sworn  into  the 
juveniles  of  the  other  party.  The  presence  of  an 
African  at  any  time,  sadly  disturbs  his  equanimity. 
His  mind,  rich  in  classic  reminiscences,  cannot 
slumber  over  the  wrongs  inflicted  by  that  race  on 
his  beloved  Rome. 

On  one  occasion  a  gigantic  negro,  for  aught  I 
know  to  the  contrary,  a  lineal  descendant  of  Han- 
nibal, named  Parker  Paul,  offended  our  Roman. 
Like  his  great  countryman,  Scipio  Africanus,  he 
determined  to  "carry  the  war  into  Africa,"  and 
like  him,  also,  resolved  it  should  be  a  war  of  ex- 
termination. He  fell  upon  this  powerful  foe  — 
struck  out  with  a  vigorous  arm  and  a  brave  heart  ; 
cut  and  thrust;  and  was  brought  from  the  field 
17 


194  PEISON  REMINISCENCES. 

covered  with  the  blood  of  his  enemy,  who  was  left 
wholly  subdued,  and  nearly  lifeless. 

It  does  not  yet  appear  that  our  hero  professes 
the  spirit  of  poetry  or  song.  It  may  be,  however, 
that  some  future  occasion  may  awake  that  spirit, 
and  that,  like  Shakspeare's  musical  heavenly  bod- 
ies, he  may  "  like  an  angel  sing,"  rivalling  even  the 
renowned  poets  of  Rome's  former  days. 

The  last  trait  of  the  Roman  character  in  this 
wonderful  man,  of  which  I  shall  speak,  is  love  of 
power.  This,  like  the  great  Julius  Caesar,  our  hero 
has  "largely  developed."  He  is  an  almost  abso- 
lute master  of  a  part  of  our  United  States  —  fifty 
by  one  hundred  and  fifty  feet.  He  sweeps,  and 
dusts,  and  scours,  as  one  born  to  command. 

"  He  is  monarch  of  all  he  surveys ; " 

and  that,  too,  in  bold  defiance  of  that  motto, 
"  Americans  shall  rule  America."  Finally, 

"  He  is  a  man,  taking  him  all  in  all, 
I  shall  not  look  upon  his  like  again." 


MAITLAND.  195 


CHAPTER    XV. 

MAITLAND. 

MAITLAND,   was   the   son   of   a  highly 

respected  local  preacher  in  Bristol,  England.  The 
father  was  licensed  by  JOHN  WESLEY,  and  his  house 
was  often  the  temporary  abode  of  that  great  and 
good  man,  as  also  of  BENSON  and  CLAKKE,  and 
other  eminent  men  of  that  denomination.  He  was 
a  younger  son  of  an  ancient  family  of  some  dis- 
tinction, and  the  family  estates  of  course  devolved 
on  the  elder  brother.  The  family  of  the  younger 
Maitland,  however,  were  in  easy  circumstances,  and 
well  educated,  especially  in  morals  and  piety.  Un- 
fortunately for  young  M.,  at  an  early  age  he  was 
adopted  by  his  elder  uncle.  Here  all  was  changed. 
From  being  the  member  of  a  household,  who, 

"  Along  the  cool  sequestered  vale  of  life, 
Had  kept  the  noiseless  tenor  of  their  way," 

and  from  the  pure  and  heavenly  influence  of  paren- 
tal piety,  he  was  thrown  in  boyhood  into  a  circle 
of  gay  and  fashionable  sinners. 

"  God  was  not  in  all  their  thoughts."     A  thou- 


196  PRISON   REMINISCENCES. 

sand  unholy  influences  acted  upon  a  mind  active 
and  ambitious.  The  struggling  conscience  offered 
less  and  less  resistance,  passion  and  appetite  gained 
fresh  victories,  and  the  soul  became  a  moral  deso- 
lation. 

"  This  is  a  bright  day  in  my  history,"  thought  the 
happy  lad,  as  he  left  the  modest  cottage  of  his 
father  for  the  princely  mansion  of  his  uncle,  wend- 
ing his  way  from  the  rural  abode  of  piety  and  con- 
tentment, to  the  home  of  luxury  and  extravagance. 

Ah,  how  in  after  life  did  he  most  bitterly  curse 
that  day.  We  will  not  dwell  on  the  young  man's 
history.  Is  it  marvellous  that  he  became  corrupt, 
vile,  "giving  to  headlong  appetite  the  reins?"  Is 
it  strange  that  early  influences  ceased  to  restrain, 
or  that  at  an  early  age  the  mere  wreck  of  his 
former  self,  he  was  driven  out  from  among  those 
who  caused  his  ruin  ? 

Too  proud  to  ask  re-admittance  to  the  home  of 
his  adoption,  and  too  much  ashamed  to  seek  a 
sanctuary  in  his  childhood  home,  he  embarked  for 
America.  Here  he  was  diligent  and  found  plenty 
of  work  and  friends.  Generous  and  noble  in  his 
nature,  and  possessed  of  great  personal  attractions, 
he  might  have  spent  an  honorable  and  useful  life 
in  this  western  home,  but  unhappily  his  habits  of 
intemperance  continued,  and  blasted  all  his  pros- 


MAITLAND.  197 

pects.  In  a  state  of  inebriation  he  committed  a 
theft,  (an  act  of  meanness  of  which  he  would  never 
have  been  guilty  in  any  other  state,)  and  was 
brought  to  a  gloomy  prison. 

0,  how  the  first  sight  of  those  gloomy  walls  and 
iron  gates  smote  the  soul  of  young  Maitland,  and 
how  did  his  proud  heart  agonize  in  laying  off  his 
fashionable  garments,  and  assuming  the  coarse, 
parti-colored  prison  uniform.  Who  that  looks  at 
him  but  pities  him.  There  he  stands.  Time  has 
not  furrowed  his  brow,  nor  has  labor  bent  that  firm 
form,  but  shame  covers  his  countenance,  and  re- 
morse tears  his  young  heart. 

Is  he  not  now  thinking  of  that  early  home, 

"  Where  peace  and  plenty  blest  the  laboring  band;" 

of  the  morning  and  the  evening  prayer,  and  song 
of  praise  j  of  the  ten  thousand  nameless  endear- 
ments of  virtuous,  social  life  ?  And  now  there  comes 
over  him  a  sense  of  guilt,  his  apostacy  from  the 
God  of  his  father,  and  the  bringing  of  grey  hairs 
with  sorrow  to  the  grave.  How  he  trembles  !  — 
a  deadly  paleness  overspreads  his  countenance, 
terribly,  yet  but  imperfectly  indicating  the  storm 
raging  within. 

Through  six  long  years  poor  Maitland  toiled  on, 
suffered   on.      Beloved   by  officers   and   convicts, 
17* 


198  PRISON   REMINISCENCES. 

faithful,  obedient,  and  I  think  prayerful,  though  I 
regret  to  say  he  found  no  clear  sense  of  his  accept- 
ance with  God.  The  day  at  last  came,  long 
desired.  0,  how  long  !  The  prison  doors  slowly 
opened  as  if  reluctant  to  introduce  the  poor  young 
man  to  the  smiling  world  without. 

He  went  forth ;  but  where  could  he  go  ?  A 
stranger  in  a  strange  land,  and  a  degraded  convict. 
He  was  too  sensitive  not  to  shrink  from  the  eyes 
of  those  who  knew  him.  One  path  seemed  open 
before  him.  The  war  with  Mexico  had  commenced, 
and  in  the  midst  of  the  "  pomp  and  circumstance  " 
of  war,  he  might  forget  the  past.  Here  life  would 
be  jeopardized ;  but  what  was  life  to  him  ?  He  en- 
listed, and  for  his  good  conduct  and  bravery,  was 
made  a  subordinate  officer. 

The  remnant  of  that  army  returned  to  their  own 
land.  Well  had  they  sustained  the  fame  of  our 
country,  in  campaigns  that  find  no  parallel  on  the 
pages  of  history. 

But  our  Maitland :  As  the  thinned  ranks  moved 
on,  his  fine,  military  form  was  not  seen  among 
them.  In  a  soldier's  grave  in  a  distant  land,  the 
hands  of  his  brave  comrades  had  laid  him  down, 
and  their  honest  tears  fell  on  his  uncoffined  dust. 


BIBLE   INFLUENCE.  199 

CHAPTER     XYI. 

BIBLE   INFLUENCE. 

I  HAVE  referred  to  the  influence  of  the  Bible  on 
the  heart  and  life.  The  importance  of  the  subject 
will  justify  the  additional  testimony  of  this  chapter. 

W.  S.  was  a  native  of  Lyndon,  Vermont.  It  was 
his  misfortune  to  lose  his  parents  by  death  when 
quite  young,  and  thus  be  thrown  upon  the  world 
without  a  relation  to  provide  for,  or  guide,  or  in- 
struct him.  He  was  an  active  lad,  impatient  of 
restraint,  and  yet  not  considered  vicious  until  he 
came  to  reside  in  one  of  our  cities,  where  he  formed 
acquaintance  with  some  of  our  "  fast  young  men," 
and  having  had  no  proper  training,  and  no  knowl- 
edge of  religious  truth,  soon  fell  in  with  their  evil 
practices  and  infidel  notions.  I  do  not  learn  that 
he  was  ever  charged  with  crime,  until  the  offence 
for  which  he  was  imprisoned. 

He  was  charged  in  the  indictment,  and  found 
guilty  of  breaking  into  the  house  of  ONE  DANIEL 
WEBSTER,  in  Franklin,  and  stealing  therefrom  sundry 
articles.  The  house  was  not  inhabited  at  the  time. 
The  great  "  Expounder  of  the  Constitution  "  kept 


200  PRISON   REMINISCENCES. 

the  paternal  mansion  furnished,  and  at  certain  por- 
tions of  the  year  came  and  spent  some  weeks  of 
happy  intercourse  with  the  good  people  of  his 
native  place,  to  the  great  delight  of  his  old  friends, 
and  also  of  the  young,  in  whose  society  he  always 
delighted.  During  his  absence,  young  S.  was  per- 
suaded, by  an  older  and  more  wicked  sinner,  to 
commit  the  offense.  He  never  denied  it,  but 
through  all  my  acquaintance  with  him,  seemed  to 
abhor  that  low,  mean  vice,  lying,  which  is  generally 
found  connected  with  a  propensity  to  steal. 

There  was  something  in  the  countenance  of  this 
young  man  exceedingly  prepossessing.  He  would 
be  noticed  among  an  hundred  others,  as  one  of  su- 
perior intellect,  as  well  as  of  dignified  and  pleas- 
ant manners.  He  had  been  but  a  few  weeks  in 
prison  when,  as  I  came  to  his  cell  one  Sabbath, 
holding  out  his  Bible  in  his  hand,  he  said  to  me, 
"  Mr.  Chaplain,  I  have  never  been  so  much  surprised 
at  anything  in  my  life,  as  I  am  to  find  in  the  world 
a  book  like  this.  I  do  not  know  that  I  ever  read 
a  chapter  of  it  carefully  until  I  came  here,  though 
I  knew  there  was  a  book  called  the  Bible,  and  had 
been  accustomed  to  see  it  and  hear  something  said 
of  it  when  I  went  to  a  religious  meeting,  which  was 
very  seldom.  Yet  I  thought  it  wholly  unworthy 
of  credit;  a  collection  of  senseless  stories  and 


BIBLE    INFLUENCE.  201 

serious  fiction,  got  up  by  ministers  for  selfish  pur- 
poses; and  I  have  been  accustomed  to  hold  it  in 
the  most  perfect  contempt.  But  I  was  forcibly 
struck  with  my  first  lesson,  and  I  am  filled  with 
surprise  as  I  continue  to  read.  I  can  feel  but  little 
interest  in  any  other  book."  He  then  spoke  of  its 
language,  its  history,  biography,  and  expressed  a 
determination  to  make  the  Bible  his  study  for  the 
present,  at  least.  He  lived  six  years  afterwards, 
and  to  the  last  was  emphatically  "  a  man  of  one 
book."  He  would  take  up  some  portion,  for  in- 
stance the  history  of  the  creation,  and  requesting 
me,  if  I  knew  of  any  book  that  would  help  him  in 
his  examination  of  that  subject,  that  I  would  pro- 
cure it  for  him ;  would  proceed  to  his  work  and 
never  leave  it  until  the  subject  was  well  understood, 
and  all  doubt  dissolved.  He  would  then  take  up 
another  subject,  and  proceed  in  like  manner.  I 
gave  him  Watson's  Apology,  and  other  books  of 
the  kind,  and  kept  him  well  supplied  with  such 
books  as  would  give  the  exact  meaning  of  words 
and  terms.  Availing  himself  of  all  the  helps,  he 
continued  to  his  death  a  student  of  the  Bible. 

He  did  not  search  the  scriptures  from  a  love  of 
controversy,  or  a  wish  to  establish  a  favorite  creed, 
or  even  to  overcome  any  doubts  of  their  authen- 
ticity ;  for  on  this  he  was  well  assured.  Nor  were 


202  PRISON   REMINISCENCES. 

his  religious  fears  greatly  awakened,  or  his  desires 
for  his  personal  salvation  at  any  one  time  very 
ardent.  But  his  whole  soul  was  moved  with  an 
intense  desire  to  read  and  understand  the  Bible  as 
the  "Book  of  God."  To  "read,  understand,  and 
inwardly  digest "  the  sublime  and  saving  truths  of 
revelation,  was  his  favorite  employment.  All  his 
conversation  was  directed  to  this  pursuit;  all  the 
energies  of  his  mind  here  employed. 

And  it  would  be  exceedingly  gratifying  could  I 
give  the  reader  a  just  idea  of  his  "  profiting  withal." 
His  countenance,  always  intelligent,  became  won- 
derfully expressive  of  deep,  calm,  deliberate 
thought.  In  his  manner  he  was  dignified,  yet  hum- 
ble ;  serious,  but  not  sad ;  familiar,  yet  not  so  as  to 
offend  the  most  fastidious.  As  a  prisoner,  so  far 
as  any  intercourse  with  his  fellow  prisoners  could 
be  permitted,  he  was  always  kind  and  affectionate, 
but  he  seemed  to  have  no  interest  in  any  of  the 
little  incidents  that  are  generally  much  noticed  by 
convicts,  and  which,  with  many,  beguile  the  tedious 
years  of  confinement. 

No  commentator,  intent  on  searching  out  and 
giving  to  the  world  the  true  sense  of  the  sacred 
writings,  could  be  more  diligent  in  making  use  of 
all  the  means  within  his  reach,  than  was  poor  S. 


BIBLE   INFLUENCE.  203 

during  his  last  four  months  in  the  study  of  the 
book  of  Revelation,  a  portion  of  the  holy  volume 
in  which  he  much  delighted.  There  remained  but 
about  one  year  to  complete  his  sentence.  What 
course  he  might  take,  on  regaining  his  liberty,  so 
far  as  morals  or  piety  are  concerned,  was  a  ques- 
tion well  settled  in  the  minds  of  those  who  knew 
him  in  the  last  years  of  his  life. 

I  fondly  hoped  to  see  him  in  some  department 
of  religious  service,  useful  to  the  church  and  world. 
Often  in  pondering  over  the  condition  of  the  con- 
victs has  his  case  caught  up  my  mind,  and  I  have 
many  times  looked  with  cheering  hope  to  the  time 
when  I  should  see  community  blest  with  the  sub- 
stantial fruits  of  my  care  and  labor  bestowed  on 
this  man. 

He  has  gone  from  the  prison.  His  Bible  is 
laid  aside.  His  young  heart,  so  in  love  with 
God's  word,  is  cold  in  death.  His  noble,  manly 
countenance  is  covered  by  the  "  clods  of  the 
valley,"  and  his  spirit  has  flown  home,  and  is  at 
rest. 

Farewell,  friend,  pupil,  almost  son,  farewell. 
I  had  thought  to  see  thee  nobly  redeeming  thy  lost 
reputation,  and  honoring  on  earth  the  "  grace  that 
aboundeth  to  the  chief  of  sinners."  But  I  bow 


204  PRISON   REMINISCENCES. 

submissively,  though  sadly,  to  the  decree  of  infi- 
nite wisdom.     If  thou  hast  found 

"  The  house  of  our  Father  above, 
The  palace  of  angels  and  God," 

then  will  that  home  be  sweet  to  thee,  who  never 
knew  an  earthly  home. 


ANECDOTES.  205 


CHAPTER    XVII. 

ANECDOTES. 

The  Double  Blessing.  —  A  well  educated  and 
intelligent  man  of  Scottish  descent,  was  impris- 
oned for  house  breaking.  He  was  of  a  very 
respectable  family,  and  after  years  of  travel  by 
sea  and  land,  he  for  some  time  had  command  of 
a  coasting  vessel.  In  one  of  his  "  high  times " 
when  in  port,  being  intoxicated,  he  broke  into 
a  rum  shop,  for  which  offense  he  was  impris- 
oned for  one  year.  As  his  time  was  so  short,  he 
was  able  to  keep  his  condition  a  secret  from  his 
friends,  and  for  this  reason  his  name  is  suppressed. 
He  was  an  infidel  on  coming  among  us,  but  by 
carefully  reading  the  Bible,  "Butler's  Analogy," 
and  kindred  works,  together  with  much  conversa- 
tion on  what  had  been  to  him  doubtful  points,  he 
became  convinced  of  the  truth  and  excellence  of 
Christianity,  and  professed  to  have  experienced 
its  renovating  influence. 

He  travelled  for  some  time  with  an  English 
gentleman,  whose  name  and  travels  are  familiar 
18 


206  PEISON   REMINISCENCES. 

with  many,  and  who  made  the  tour  of  Italy,  Greece, 
Turkey,  and  the  east  in  general.  His  travelling 
companion  was  a  young  French  gentleman,  who  had 
for  a  servant  a  Frenchman.  Our  friend  officiated 
in  that  capacity  for  the  Englishman. 

The  following  anecdote,  (for  the  truth  of  which 
I  cannot  vouch,  though  for  several  reasons  I  think 
it  genuine,)  he  related  to  me.  In  Corfu,  on  the 
Sabbath,  the  travellers  were  sitting  together  on  the 
piazza  of  the  hotel.  Opposite  was  the  cathedral. 
It  was  during  the  celebration  of  "  high  mass."  The 
French  servant  came  to -his  master  and  asked  for 
some  money,  which  was  denied  him.  "  Veil,"  said 
the  Frenchman,  in  bad  English,  "I  sail  'ave  ze 
money  some  how."  He  had  noticed  that  the  people 
on  entering  the  cathedral  opposite,  deposited  their 
offerings  in  a  box,  placed  near  the  door.  As  if  a 
new  thought  struck  him,  rubbing  his  hands  together 
he  exclaimed,  "  Zat  vill  do,  ze  money  vill  be  all  ze 
petter  for  being  consecrated,"  and  across  the  street 
he  ran.  Seeing  no  one  near  or  looking  on,  he 
quickly  forced  off  the  top  of  the  box,  and  soon 
filled  one  pocket,  but  just  then  the  tinkling  of  a 
bell  announced  that  the  service  had  closed. 

He  had  time  only  to  replace  the  cover  of  the  box, 
when  out  came  the  bishop  and  priest,  followed  by 
the  congregation.  The  Frenchman  still  clutching 


ANECDOTES.  207 

a  handful  of  coin  he  had  taken  from  the  box,  at 
once  brought  his  face  into  a  most  sanctimonious 
form,  and  began  to  pray,  dropping  at  each  sentence 
a  coin  into  the  box.  His  remarkable  piety  and 
liberality  at  once  attracted  the  attention  of  the 
reverend  fathers,  who  looked  on  a  moment,  then 
coming  up  to  him,  the  bishop  laid  his  hands  most 
kindly  upon  his  head,  and  called  down  blessings 
upon  him  from  the  "  Holy  Trinity,  St.  Peter,  St. 
Paul,"  etc.,  etc.  The  Frenchman  as  he  dropped 
the  last  coin  in  his  handr  bowed  with  the  most 
admirable  grace,  and  expressed  the  most  unbound- 
ed gratitude.  Then  walking  quickly  across  the 
street  to  the  travellers,  who  were  writhing  in  their 
efforts  to  keep  from  outright  laughter,  exclaimed, 
"  Tank  heaven,  tank  heaven.  Vy  I  am  doubly 
plessed.  You  hear  ze  blessing  of  ze  bishop. 
Zat  was  ver  good,  ver  fine,  ver  rich  ;  but  zis"  slap- 
ping his  hand  on  his  well  filled  pocket,  "  zis  much 
bettare!  zis  splendid  !  zis  magnificent ! 

Selecting  a  Place.  —  Several  years  since  at 
the  time  of  the  year  when  the  wisdom  o£  the 
state  was  gathering  into  Concord,  a  gentleman 
having  on  a  "  bran  new  coat,  hat,  boots,"  etc.,  etc., 
and  evidently  not  unconscious  of  the  fact,  came 
with  eager  haste  into  the  prison  office,  and  walking 


208  PEISON   EEMINISCENCES. 

up  to  the  Warden,  with  the  air  of  one  determined 
to  be  known  as  somebody,  addressed  him,  "  Sir,  I 
have  come  to  pick  out  my  place."  The  Warden 
supposing  the  man  inclined  to  be  a  little  facetious, 
merely  smiled,  and  said,  "  Very  well,  we  will  do  our 
best  for  you  when  the  proper  time  comes." 

"  But,"  said  the  gentleman,  "  there  will  be  a  rush 
bum-by,  and  I  shall  get  crowded  into  some  con- 
sarned  corner.  I  want  a  good  place."  The  War- 
den began  to  mistrust  that  the  man  had,  as  the 
saying  is,  "  got  into  the  wrong  pew,"  and  suggested 
that  he  doubted  the  validity  of  his  claim,  telling 
him  that  of  course  the  proper  papers  must  be  forth- 
coming, or  his  name  could  not  be  entered  on  the 
books,  nor  he  recognized  as  a  member. 

" Understand  that"  said  the  man,  with  a  signifi- 
cant shake  of  the  head,  as  much  as  to  say,  "  you 
don't  manage  to  cheat  me  out  of  my  right ;"  and 
taking  out  his  old  pocket  book,  he  produced  a  care- 
fully folded  document,  and  read,  "  This  certifies," 
&c.,  it  being  a  certificate  of  his  election  as  a  Repre- 
sentative to  the  "  Honorable  General  Court,"  from 

the  town  of .  "  This  settles  the  question," 

the  Representative  elect  triumphantly  exclaimed, 
but  lo  !  just  then  a  movement  in  the  yard  attracted 
his  attention,  and  looking  out  he  saw  the  unmis- 
takeable  signs  of  his  mistake.  He  turned  short 


ANECDOTES.  209 

and  was  off;  and  as  a.  modern  novelist  would  say, 
"  There  might  have  been  seen  about  this  time  a 
man  "  going  down  State  street,  indisputably  a  fast 
man,  the  skirts  of  his  new  coat  fluttering  out  far 
behind  him,  "Like  streamers  long  and  gay." 
Whether  he  found  in  the  place  where  he  brought 
up,  better  men,  or  men  more  profitably  employed, 
the  deponent  saith  not. 

"  A  good  text  and  good  preaching,"  said  a 
convict  to  his  chaplain,  as  he  was  about  to  leave 
the  prison.  I  shall  never  forget  the  first  time 
you  preached  here.  The  text  was  in  Micah,  6th 
chapter,  and  8th  verse.  "He  hath  showed  the  old 
man  what  is  good."  "  0,  it  was  a  good  text  and  a 
good  sermon."  My  parishioner  made  rather  a 
ludicrous  blunder,  but  we  in  prison  are  not  the 
greatest  of  blunderers  after  all.  I  recollect  on 
one  occasion,  after  closing  ray  sermon,  a  ministe- 
rial brother  arose,  and  after  putting  himself  into 
an  attitude  of  oratory  began  thus  :  "  The  subject 
that  our  beloved  brother  has  so  fully  disgusted" 

I  of  course  chose  to  call  it  the  blunder  of  a  man 
ignorant  of  language.     Perhaps,  however,  there 
was  no  mistake. 
18* 


210  PRISON   REMINISCENCES. 

John  H.,  is  a  Polander,  a  native  of  Warsaw, 
and  one  of  the  brave  men  who  made  the  last 
unsuccessful  attempt  to  regain  their  country's  inde- 
pendence. After  their  defeat,  Johnny  came  to 
America,  and  I  am  sorry  to  say,  to  the  state  prison 
also.  It  was,  however,  believed  that  his  impris- 
onment was  unjust.  The  offense  charged  against 
him,  was  breaking  and  stealing  a  quantity  of  cop- 
per coin,  and  the  principal  circumstance,  on  the 
strength  of  which  he  was  judged  guilty,  was  the 
agreement  of  Johnny's  boots  with  the  size  and 
form  of  the  depredator's  made  in  the  snow  path. 
Now  it  was  undoubtedly  according  to  law  and 
evidence,  that  a  true  bill  should  have  been  found 
against  said  boots,  but  it  somewhat  changed  the 
aspect  of  the  case  when  it  came  out  that  a  certain 
woman,  not  at  all  connected  with  John,  went  with 
said  boots  on  that  special  occasion. 

Notwithstanding  all  this,  Johnny  did  the  "  state 
some  service."  Especially  was  he  useful  on  the 
Sabbath  in  our  choir.  With  a  powerful  clarionet 
he  discoursed  such  music  as  would  have  blest  the 
cars  and  stirred  the  blood  of  a  regiment  of  cavalry, 
horse  and  rider,  and  have  brought  them  up  to  des- 
perate deeds  of  valor.  He  was  often  cautioned  to 
ease  off  a  little,  and  suit  his  music  to  the  sacred 
hour  and  place.  And  he  would  do  so,  for  his  was 


ANECDOTES.  211 

a  yielding  spirit  and  a  devotional  heart,  "but  when 
the  music  began  to  go  well,  John's  old  martial  spirit 
was  stirred  within  him,  and  he  could  not  well  sub- 
due it.  He  would  seem  to  imagine  himself  on  the 
field  of  glorious  strife,  and  bound  to  stir  a  fever 
in  the  blood  of  men  of  war.  His  sounds  would 
begin  to  take  the  martial  air,  turning  up  his  eye 
toward  the  chaplain  or  warden,  as  much  as  to  say, 
"  Pray  excuse."  Now  then,  and  0,  such  a  blast, 
and  such  flourishes.  One  would  wonder  how  even 
the  Czar  of  Russia  ever  succeeded  against  Warsaw, 
so  long  as  Johnny  played  the  clarionet.  Ah,  Johnny 
was  not  the  man  for  treason,  stratagem  and  spoils. 
"  Music  in  his  soul  ?  "  Bless  you,  his  soul  was  full 
of  music,  though  rather  better  suited  to  the  field 
than  the  orchestra. 

Johnny  was  something  of  a  wit  as  well  as  musi- 
cian. Previous  to  his  coming  to  prison,  he  worked 
for  a  gentleman,  well  known  and  beloved  in  New 
England,  as  a  day  laborer.  His  wife  was  a  very 
pious  woman,  but  John  thought  her  a  little  too 
liberal  in  her  demands  on  the  services  of  the 
workmen.  Especially  did  he  object  to  being  sent 
out  to  chop  wood  before  breakfast.  One  day  Mrs. 

felt  it  her  duty  to  speak  with  John  on  the 

subject  of  religion,  and  asked  him  what  his  views 
and  experience  were.  John  replied  that  he  was 


212  PEISON   REMINISCENCES. 

certainly  pious,  "got  'ligion,  plenty  of  'ligion." 
"  Well  what  kind  of  religion  ?  "  "-0,  what  we  have 
in  our  country."  "Well,  what  is  the.  religion  of 
your  country  ? "  "  0,  good  'ligion,  very  good 
'ligion."  "  Well,  but  what  does  your  religion  re- 
quire ?  "  «  0,  serve  God,  be  sure."  "  Well  how  ?  " 
"  0,  pray  to  God,  and  not  send  hired  men  out  to 
shop  wood  'fore  breakfast. 

The  Innocent  Irishman.  —  There  is  among 
convicts  as  well  as  other  men,  a  great  inclination 
to  deny  their  guilt,  and  refuse  to  own  up.  This  is 
true  of  all  classes,  but  the  Irishman  is  peculiarly 
eloquent  on  this  theme.  I  recollect  the  protesta- 
tion of  one  poor  fellow.  "  Master  Chaplain,"  said 
he,  "  I  am  quite  innocent  entirely.  I  know  nothing 
about  it.  I  am  as  innocent  as  a  child  that  had 
never  been  born,  and  whose  parents  had  been  dead 
many  years."  This,  if  true,  certainly  left  but 
slight  grounds  for  suspicions  of  guilt. 


EXECUTIVE   PARDON.  213 

CHAPTER    XYIII. 

EXECUTIVE   PARDON. 

IN  all  rightly  constituted  governments,  while 
penalties,  justly  incurred,'  are  inflicted,  there  is  a 
pardoning  prerogative  lodged  with  some  branch  of 
that  government.  This  is  highly  proper,  for  several 
reasons.  Circumstances  may  transpire  to  show 
the  delinquent  less  guilty  than  was  supposed,  and 
consequently  deserving  of  less  punishment.  Or, 
in  other  cases,  something  may  arise  to  show  the 
man  wholly  guiltless  in  the  matter  charged.  Or 
there  may  be  something  in  the  moral  improvement 
of  the  convict,  or  in  his  declining  health,  that  ren- 
ders pardon  right  and  proper. 

But  this  power  should  be  used  sparingly,  and  not 
without  good  reason.  Next  to  the  task  of  satisfying 
expectant  office-seekers,  (a  task  fully  equal  to  that 
of  Hercules,  or  Ixion,  or  Sysiphus,)  the  executive 
finds  the  exercise  of  the  pardoning  power  difficult 
and  vexatious.  The  difficulty  begins  with  the  sen- 
tence, which  in  many  cases  is  unreasonably  severe. 
This  may  be  in  some  cases  the  fault  of  the  statute ; 
in  others,  of  the  court.  Within  the  last  few  years, 


214  PRISON   REMINISCENCES. 

however,  there  have  been  but  few  cases  of  unrea- 
sonable sentence.  Previous  to  that,  the  severity 
of  our  New  Hampshire  courts  was  proverbial. 

Young  men  were  sentenced  to  from  seven  to 
fifteen  years  for  offences  which,,  in  Massachusetts, 
would  be  punished  from  two  to  five  years.  It  could 
not  be  expected  that  these  men  would  linger  and 
suffer  on  that  length  of  time,  peaceably  and  pa- 
tiently ;  nor  would  community  submit  to  it.  The 
executive  table  groaned  beneath  the  burden  of  pe- 
titions praying  for  the  pardon  of  such ;  and  these 
petitions  could  not  well  be  disregarded.  From  an 
annual  pardon  of  two,  or  three,  or  five,  suddenly 
the  number  went  up  to  from  ten  to  twenty  a  year. 
That  some  of  these  were  granted  unwisely,  there 
can  be  no  doubt,  for  the  men  composing  our  exec- 
utive boards,  like  all  other  men,  are  liable  to  err 
in  judgment.  But  most  of  the  pardons  granted 
were  in  favor  of  worthy  applicants. 

The  evil  complained  of  is  not  confined  to  the 
executive.  The  whole  prison  is  perpetually  an- 
noyed by  the  subject.  To  give  one  not  conversant 
with  the  prison  management,  an  idea  of  the  con- 
stant vexation  and  perplexity  occasioned  by  the 
present  system,  would  be  impossible.  No  convict, 
or  at  least,  not  one  in  ten,  on  coming  to  prison, 
expects  to  remain  to  the  end  of  his  sentence. 


EXECUTIVE   PAEDON.  215 

"  For  how  long  a  time  were  you  sentenced  ?  "  I 
generally  ask  a  convict,  on  my  first  visiting  him. 
"0,  I  was  sentenced  for  seven,  or  ten,  or  twenty 
years;  or  for  life,"  as  the  case  may  be;  "but  I  do 
not  expect  I  shall  have  to  stay  long." 

"My  prosecutor  said  that  he  had  no  thought  that 
I  should  get  more  than  a  year  or  two,  and  lawyer 
A.  says  that  it  is  perfectly  outrageous,  and  the 
sheriff  told  me  to  be  of  good  courage,  and  that  my 
friends  would  get  up  a  petition,  and  have  me  out 
soon."  Now  all  this  is  wrong.  I  know  the  pros- 
ecutor would  be  glad  to  soften  down  the  wrath  of 
the  prisoner ;  perhaps  from  pity,  or  it  may  be  from 
a  fear  of  his  revenge.  The  same  motives  may  ac- 
tuate others  who  make  promises  they  can  never 
hope  to  keep.  The  convict  is,  to  be  sure,  soothed 
and  quieted  at  the  time,  but  so  long  as  he  remains 
under  the  delusion,  he  makes  no  improvement. 
The  necessity  of  learning  to  read  or  write,  is 
urged  upon  him,  as  also  of  acquiring  a  good  trade ; 
or,  if  already  somewhat  educated,  the  importance 
of  taking  a  more  systematic  and  advanced  course 
of  study.  But,  says  the  deceived  man,  "I  shall 
not  stay  long  enough  to  make  it  an  object.  I  cannot 
do  much  in  so  short  a  time." 

And  now  he  thinks  of  nothing  else ;  and  wishes 
to  converse  on  no  other  subject  but  pardon.  Time 


216  PKISON   REMINISCENCES. 

rolls  on,  and  the  man  -wonders  what  his  friends  are 
about.  Winter  comes  and  goes,  and  spring  and 
summer  follow;  but  no  intelligence  of  anything 
doing  for  him.  Friends  seldom  write,  and  when 
they  do,  say  nothing  of  his  liberation,  or  else  give 
him  a  homily  on  patience;  a  thing  well  enough  at 
the  right  time,  but  of  no  use  now.  Still  the  man 
hopes,  and  still  experiences  that  "  hope  deferred 
maketh  the  heart  sick."  He  becomes  at  length, 
gloomy,  dejected,  obstinate.  In  his  heart,  at  least, 
he  curses  those  who  have  deceived  him;  and  per- 
haps meditates  revenge  on  them. 

All  this  time  the  Chaplain,  the  "Warden,  and  Dep- 
uty, knew  that  the  poor  fellow  was  cherishing  a 
hope  that  would  be  found  false,  but  they  could  not 
well  tell  him  so.  His  conclusion  would,  in  that 
case  be,  that  the  officers  were  combined  to  keep 
him  in  prison,  and  were  his  enemies.  The  labor 
of  the  Chaplain  would  be  lost  on  him,  and  the  sup- 
posed enmity  of  the  other  officers  would  be  repaid 
by  disobedience  and  mischief. 

"  I  am  kept  here,"  says  the  man,  "  because  I  am 
profitable."  "I'll  make  it  a  hard  bargain  for 
them."  I  speak  that  I  know,  and  am  confident  that 
a  disappointment  in  respect  to  pardon  is  at  the 
foundation  of  most  of  the  instances  of  disobedi- 
ence and  bad  temper  of  prisoners.  What,  then, 
can  be  done  in  the  premises  ? 


EXECUTIVE  PARDON.  217 

1st.  Let  the  sentence  be  as  light  as  can  comport 
with  the  protection  of  community  and  the  reform 
of  the  prisoner. 

2d.  Let  the  convict  know  that  he  is  to  suffer  the 
full  penalty  of  his  offence,  unless  something  should 
transpire  to  change  greatly  the  principal  features 
of  his  case. 

3d.  Let  the  relations  and  all  connected  with  the 
case,  while  they  commiserate  and  pity  the  man, 
acquiesce  in  the  decision,  and  by  kind  words  and 
frequent  communications  in  writing,  show  him  that 
he  is  still  remembered  and  loved.  Then  the  con- 
vict knows  the  destiny  that  awaits  him.  He  is  not 
tormented  with  painful  suspense,  or  maddened  with 
uncontrolable  rage  by  the  violations  of  promises 
made  by  friends.  He  sets  about  his  work,  forms 
his  plans  for  study,  and  mental  and  moral  improve- 
ment, and  all  goes  on  pleasantly.  The  man  is  con- 
vinced that  his  sentence  is  not  of  an  unreasonable 
length,  and  he  is  saved  from  the  evils  that  are  un- 
avoidable under  the  present  state  of  things. 

Even  then,  there  will  occasionally  arise  a  case 
that  will  call  for  executive  interference ;  but  those 
cases  will  be  few.  This  view  of  the  subject,  I 
know,  is  entertained  by  the  most  intelligent  of 
the  convicts.  I  recollect  one  very  intelligent 
man  assured  me  that  he  had  suffered  more  from  anx- 
19 


218  PEISON   REMINISCENCES. 

iety,  knowing  that  Ms  friends  were  seeking  his 
liberation,  than  from  everything  else  connected 
with  his  long  imprisonment  of  ten  years.  And  he 
assured  us  that  if  ever  again  he  should  be  impris- 
oned, he  would  most  earnestly  beg  his  friends,  if 
efforts  were  made  for  his  pardon,  to^keep  the  mat- 
ter wholly  from  him. 

In  respect  to  such  as  are  sentenced  for  life,  I 
think,  in  most  cases  there  should  be  no  effort  made 
by  their  friends,  on  their  behalf,  until  the  convict 
has  suffered  from  eight  to  ten  years.  I  fix  on  this 
as  a  point  beyond  which  few  prisoners  can  remain 
without  a  strong  probability  of  breaking  down 
and  becoming  enfeebled  for  life ;  and,  also,  that 
whatever  hop-e  of  reform  may  be- cherished,  must 
be  realized,  if  ever.  The  public  mind  would,  in 
most  cases,  be  outraged  by  an  earlier  effort,  should 
it  be  made ;  and  a  failure  at  the  first  attempt,  pre- 
maturely made,  would  render  the  case  less  hopeful. 

At  the  proper  time,  let  the  case  be  brought  be- 
fore the  executive  by  some  judicious  friends,  who 
were  acquainted  with  all  the  circumstances  of  the 
case,  and  a  decision  be  had.  If,  from  his  crime 
being  of  a  very  aggravated  character,  it  is  deemed 
improper,  or  if  the  conduct  of  the  culprit  has  been 
such  as  to  show  that  it  would  be  unsafe  to  set  him 
at  liberty,  let  such  be  the  final  conclusion. 


EXECUTIVE  PARDON.  219 

But  if  otherwise,  and  if  at  any  time  it  would  be 
proper  to  grant  the  individual  a  pardon,  it  ought 
no  longer  to  be  delayed.  A  longer  imprisonment, 
if  not  destructive  to  life,  would  be  so  to  health; 
and  liberty  would  be  but  a  poor  boon  to  a  man  of 
advanced  years  and  shattered  health.  I  think  a 
vast  majority  of  our  communities  would  acquiesce 
in  such  a  decision. 


220  PRISON  REMINISCENCES. 


CHAPTER    XIX. 

DISCHARGED    CONVICTS. 

How  should  discharged  convicts  be  treated,  is  a 
question  of  much  importance.  In  this,  as  in  every- 
thing else  of  importance,  there  are  extremes  to  be 
avoided.  There  are  men,  who,  from  great  tender- 
ness of  heart,  or  perhaps  entertaining  superficial 
views  of  justice,  treat  discharged  convicts  with  a 
familiarity  and  intimacy  quite  injudicious.  They 
seem  even  to  show  a  marked  attention  to  them,  as 
if  they  were  the  victims  not  of  sin  but  of  misfor- 
tune, and  treat  them  as  if  returned  from  some 
highly  honorable  but  unsuccessful  enterprise,  and 
whose  losses  were  to  be  made  up  by  superabundant 
kindness,  and  overflowing  sympathy.  This  error, 
however,  is  not  a  common  one.  Far  more  fre- 
quently does  the  discharged  convict  meet  positive 
and  cruel  abuse.  He  is  cruelly  taunted  by  some, 
perhaps  in  a  jocose  manner,  but  still  in  a  way  to 
inflict  positive  pain. 

Sometimes  remarks  are  made  as  if  with  the  de- 
sign to  wound  the  feelings  of  the  poor  man,  and 


DISCHARGED   CONVICTS.  221 

more  frequently  there  is  manifested  an  indifference 
to  his  prosperity.  Many  -will  give  him  no  encour- 
agement. He  seeks  employment,  but  is  repulsed, 
and  in  a  way  that  shows  him  why.  And  all  this  is 
the  more  discouraging  because  he  is  looking  out 
for  unkindness.  He  imagines  every  one  regards 
him  with  indifference  or  contempt.  Do  the  chil- 
dren playing  in  the  street  laugh  in  sportiveness,  he 
thinks  himself  the  subject  of  their  ridicule.  Does 
the  bashful  female  pass  him  with  a  flushed  counte- 
nance and  hurried  step,  he  imagines  she  knows  he 
has  been  a  convict,  and  fears  him.  Does  the  man 
of  business  inform  him  he  has  no  occasion  to  em- 
ploy help,  the  same  inference  is  drawn.  With 
these  feelings  how  greatly  magnified  are  all  real  or 
supposed  neglects  or  insults.  His  resolutions  to 
reform  and  lead  an  honest  life  were  sincere,  but 
now,  discouraged  by  the  reception  he  meets,  his 
hope  dies  within  him,  his  purposes  of  living  a 
virtuous  life  are  shaken,  and  his  old  propensities 
return  with  new  strength.  He  has  expended  his 
last  dollar,  and  fails  to  find  either  kindness  or 
employment,  and  what  can  he  do.  It  is  easy  to  say 
"  Let  him  starve  rather  than  steal."  This  is  no 
doubt  good  doctrine,  and  well  established  Christian 
principle  would  enable  one  to  endure  the  gnawing 
of  hunger  even  to  death,  rather  than  to  seek  relief 


222  PRISON   REMINISCENCES. 

at  the  loss  of  virtue  or  honesty.  But  we  are  not 
to  look  for  so  high  a  standard  of  Christian  morals 
among  discharged  convicts,  and  can  only,  therefore, 
expect  to  see  them  fall  in  the  day  of  such  trial. 

They  become  desperate;  they  sin,  and  soon 
return  to  prison,  and  as  the  poor  fellow  comes 
back,  men  are  heard  to  say,  "  Oh,  just  as  I  always 
said ;  "  "  knew  he  would  be  back  again ;  "  "  want 
going  to  have  a  state  prisoner  around  me."  These 
remarks  on  the  extremes  of  kindness  and  cruelty, 
will  suggest  the  true  method  of  treating  such  men. 

A  young  man  comes  back  to  your  neighborhood 
who  has  been  in  prison,  and  you  must  meet  him. 
Take  him  by  the  hand  and  speak  freely  to  him. 
Give  him  to  understand,  not  only  your  regret  for  his 
folly,  and  your  deep  sense  of  abhorrence  of  crime, 
but  let  him  know  also,  that  you  are  interested  in 
his  restoration  to  the  favor  of  the  community.  Say 
to  him,  "  We  are  disposed  to  help  you.  We  do 
not  intend,  however,  to  receive  you  into  our  full 
confidence,  or  take  you  back  to  our  intimate 
fellowship,  without  proofs  of  sorrow  for  the  past, 
and  evident  purpose  of  honesty  and  integrity  for 
the  future.  You  are  a  probationer  with  us,  a  can- 
didate for  the  full  confidence  and  esteem  of  our 
citizens.  We  shall  help  you,  but  we  shall  watch 
you.  Not  in  the  spirit  of  unkindness,  but  of  hope, 


DISCHAEGED   CONVICTS.  223 

and  in  charity  we  shall  watch  over  you.  Go  then 
to  your  work,  and  step  by  step  gain  back  what  you 
have  lost.  The  favor  of  our  community  will  come 
as  fast  as  it  is  earned.  In  your  honesty  and  integ- 
rity we  shall  all  rejoice." 

The  good  sense  of  every  man  will  suggest  how 
soon  and  how  far  such  a  man  should  be  admitted 
to  our  familiar  circles  as  one  of  us.  He  should 
never  be  taunted  with  a  remark  calculated  to 
wound  his  feelings.  The  subject  of  his  imprisonment 
should  never  be  alluded  to  in  a  half-jesting  manner, 
for  if  inclined  to  take  things  serious,  he  will  think 
it  intended  to  insult  him ;  or  if  of  another  turn  of 
mind,  he  will  infer  that  his  sinful  course  is  after  all, 
not  so  much  a  subject  of  serious  concern  and  deep 
sorrow,  since  men  make  it  a  subject  of  merriment 
and  jest. 

The  liberated  man  should  be  encouraged  to  avoid 
bad  company  wholly.  He  should  cultivate  a  love 
for  books,  and  should  as  far  as  may  be  practicable, 
lead  a  retired  life,  not  seeking  to  mingle  at  once 
in  society.  With  the  vicious  he  must  not  be  found, 
with  the  virtuous  he  cannot  at  present  hope  to 
stand  on  terms  of  equality.  Let  him  wait  awhile, 
and  be  sober,  and  modest,  and  discreet,  pursuing 
faithfully  his  calling,  and  except  in  the  worship  of 
God,  mingling  but  little  with  the  crowd.  And  it 


224  PRISON   REMINISCENCES. 

is  •wonderful  how  soon,  pursuing  such  a  course,  he 
will  stand  up  a  man  amongst  good  men.  The  last 
few  years  have  wrought  a  great  change  in  the  man- 
ner of  treating  discharged  convicts.  I  do  not 
think  but  our  citizens  generally  are  disposed  to 
receive  such  in  a  proper  spirit,  and  treat  them 
kindly.  But  there  is  still  a  great  want  of  knowl- 
edge as  to  the  best  means  of  doing  them  good. 
And  in  behalf  of  that  class  of  our  fellow  men,  I 
would  most  affectionately  urge  all  who  may  read 
these  pages  to  think  seriously  of  their  duty  in  this 
respect.  If  he  that  converteth  a  sinner  from  the 
error  of  his  ways  shall  save  a  soul  from  death,  and 
hide  a  multitude  of  sins,  then  when  a  man  from 
prison  comes  among  you,  for  his  sake  and  for  your 
own  good,  look  to  him  and  help  him.  I  do  not  ask 
you  to  marry  him  to  your  daughter,  or  to  make 
him  your  intimate  friend.  Do  neither  at  present, 
but  count  him  a  man,  a  sinful  man  to  be  sure,  but 
a  man.  By  judicious  efforts  seek  to  help  him  to 
overcome  his  vicious  propensities,  to  conquer  his 
besetting  sins,  and  to  rear  up  the  principles  of 
integrity  and  moral  purity,  which  are  perhaps 
struggling  with  but  a  feeble  and  sickly  growth. 
Thou  shalt  in  no  case  lose  thy  reward. 

These  pages  may  be  read  by  some  who  have 
relatives  in  prison,  or  recently  discharged  there- 


DISCHARGED   CONVICTS.  225 

from.  Is  it  a  child,  parent,  brother.  God  support 
and  comfort  you,  my  friend.  An  acquintance  with 
many  honest,  respectable  persons,  who  have  suf- 
fered as  you  do,  has  given  me  great  sympathy  in 
your  behalf.  Allow  me  to  charge  you,  forsake 
not  the  unhappy  man  whose  conduct  has  brought 
grief  and  shame  into  your  domestic  circle.  I 
know  a  high  sense  of  honor,  and  a  just  estimate 
of  good  family  reputation  are  to  be  cultivated,  and 
that  a  blow  has  been  struck  that  has  nearly 
been  fatal  to  your  happiness.  But  imitate  your 
Heavenly  Father.  Like  him  learn 

"  To  hate  the  sin  with  all  your  heart, 
And  yet  the  sinner  love." 

How  long  and  how  kindly  has  God  borne  with 
you.  So  long  and  kindly  bear  with  that  offender. 
Is  he  in  prison?  Write  often  to  him,  faithfully 
but  affectionately.  Encourage  him  to  hope  for 
your  love  and  help  in  time  to  come.  And  visit 
him.  "  0,  I  cannot  bear  the  disgrace.  I  cannot 
be  known  as  having  a  member  of  my  family  in 
prison."  You  very  much  mistake  if  you  imagine 
your  reputation  will  be  damaged  by  coming  to  weep 
over  a  poor  wretched  relative.  0,  no,  my  friend. 
Nothing  so  sinks  one  in  the  opinion  of  men  in  gen- 
eral, as  to  desert  a  friend  at  such  a  time.  And 


226  PRISON  REMINISCENCES. 

what  more  convincing  proof  can  you  give  of  a  pure 
heart,  and  a  high  sense  of  the  worth  of  character, 
than  a  frequent  visit  to  the  wretched  man,  sighing 
and  groaning  in  disgrace,  and  ground  to  the  dust 
by  a  sense  of  shame  and  of  condemnation.  0,  I 
have  seen  him  when  the  only  link  that  bound  him 
to  hope  was  the  fond  thought,  "  They  love  me  at 
home."  Show  yourself  worthy  of  a  claim  to 
respectability,  by  taking  the  hand  of  that  poor  man, 
and  acknowledging  that  with  all  his  faults  you  love 
him  still.  Nothing  so  convinces  that  you  are  not 
chargeable  with  fault  in  that  friend's  guilt  as  your 
concern  in  his  welfare.  And  when  a  convict's 
relatives  fail  to  write  or  visit  them,  the  conclusion 
of  all  the  prison  officers  is,  that  man's  relatives 
are  not  respectable.  He  probably  committed  his 
offense  because  the  restraining  and  purifying  influ- 
ence of  family  kindness  was  wanting.  There  is 
no  love  there,  and  he  sought  other  circles  for  sym- 
pathy, which  did  not  exist  at  home.  But  when  the 
weeping  parent,  or  wife,  or  brother,  or  sister  breaks 
away  from  embracing  the  man  in  a  prison  garb,  and 
passes  off,  casting  a  look  of  sorrowful  affection 
back,  the  conclusion  is,  "  That  convict  has  good 
relations,  they  are  respectable,  he  only  is  the 
sinner ;"  a  conclusion  which  I  find  is  generally  just. 
0,  save  me  from  those  relations  who  are  too 


DISCHAEGED   CONVICTS.  227 

respectable  to  "  seek  and  save  the  lost,"  and  who 
have  no  love  for  a  member  of  their  household  who 
has  sinned.  "  Unto  their  honor,  my  soul,  be  not 
thou  united." 

Is  that  friend  soon  to  come  forth  to  liberty? 
Meet  him  at  the  door  of  the  prison,  having  first 
provided  for  him  some  employment,  and  take  him 
to  your  home  and  heart.  Show  him  that  he  is  not 
to  be  driven  out  like  Cain,  a  fugitive  and  vagabond 
upon  the  face  of  the  earth ;  but  that  his  friends 
possess  the  spirit  of  Him  who  said,  "  Thy  sins  are 
all  forgiven  thee,  go  in  peace  and  sin  no  more." 
Help  him  in  business,  encourage  him  in  well  doing, 
and  let  him  know  that  all  is  not  lost  to  him.  Thus 
a  pleasant  future  shall  open  up  before  him,  and 
though  thoughts  of  the  past  will  often  open  the 
fountains  of  tears  and  throw  some  dark  shadows 
on  the  future,  yet  his  heart  will  take  encourage- 
ment, and  when  men  shall  speak  of  your  reputation, 
and  wish  to  place  it  most  favorably  before  the 
community,  among  the  worthy  deeds  that  have 
made  that  reputation,  they  will  place  first  and  fore- 
most, your  Christian  treatment  of  that  offending 
relative. 


228  PBISON   REMINISCENCES. 


CHAPTER    XX. 

THE  CONVICT'S  FUNERAL. 

As  there  is  something  terrible  in  the  thought  of 
dying  in  prison,  so  there  is  a  sadness  and  solem- 
nity in  a  funeral  conducted  in  that  place. 

At  the  appointed  hour,  the  corpse,  decently  clad 
and  prepared  for  its  "narrow  house,"  is  (unless 
the  season  or  the  weather  forbids,)  taken  from 
the  hospital  to  the  centre  of  the  prison  yard,  and 
placed  on  a  table. 

The  prison  bell  is  then  rung,  which  gives  the 
surviving  convicts  the  first  notice  of  death's  doings 
among  them.  All  hands  now  quit  work,  and  are 
arranged  in  divisions.  Another  stroke  of  the  bell 
and  each  division  marches  out  of  its  shop,  and,  ap- 
proaching the  centre  of  the  yard,  form  three  sides 
of  a  square ;  the  corpse,  surrounded  by  the  officers 
and  Chaplain,  forming  the  other  side.  Many  citi- 
zens are  seen  at  the  windows  of  the  officers'  house, 
looking  out,  and  listening  with  interest  and  often 
with  tears. 

And  now  there  is  a  silence  which  is  oppressive. 


THE  CONVICT'S  FUNERAL.  229 

"Who  is  lie?"  is  a  question  which  struggles  in 
each  bosom,  for  most  of  them  have  had  no  oppor- 
tunity of  knowing.  But  that  question  must  not 
be  asked,  and  it  is  interesting  to  observe  the  coun- 
tenance of  each,  as  the  look  at  the  face  of  the 
dead,  gives  the  answer.  Are  they  the  features 
of  an  unknown,  or  of  one  not  beloved,  there  is 
an  expression  of  relief  evident.  But  is  it  a  fa- 
miliar face,  and  a  beloved  countenance,  0,  how  the 
sad  gleam  calls  forth  a  sigh,  a  tear,  as,  passing  on, 
the  poor  fellow  casts  his  lingering,  last  look  on  the 
rigid  features  of  the  dead.  And  another  question 
is  doubtless  often  on  the  mind : 

"  Who  next  shall  be  hastened  away, 
My  merciful  Lord,  is  it  IV" 

The  Chaplain  lays  his  open  bible  on  the  coffin  and 
reads,  "  Man  that  is  born  of  woman,  is  of  few  days 
and  full  of  trouble.  He  cometh  forth  like  a  flower, 
and  is  cut  down ;  he  fleeth  also  as  a  shadow,  and 
continueth  not."  The  selected  sentences  from  the 
good  book,  resting  on  the  still  heart  of  the  dead, 
as  they  fall  from  the  lips  of  the  speaker,  and  are 
reverberated  from  the  surrounding  walls  of  stone, 
seem  to  rest  with  unwonted  weight  on  the  souls 
of  the  living  ranks  of  listeners.  The  lesson  fin- 
20 


230  PRISON   REMINISCENCES. 

ished,  the  Chaplain  may  be  supposed  to  address 
them  in  substance  as  follows : 

My  brethren,  a  few  days  since  we  stood  on  this 
spot,  as  we  now  stand.  Here  lay  the  unconscious 
form  of  one  who  had  been  your  companion  in  your 
toils  and  sufferings.  "We  sought  to  improve  that 
providence  by  religious  services,  and  then  was 
committed  "  earth  to  earth,  ashes  to  ashes,  dust  to 
dust."  In  your  ranks  there  stood  at  that  hour  a 
young  man  whose  countenance  was  shaded  with 
sorrow.  To-day  that  division  is  not  full,  his  foot- 
step was  not  heard  when  you  marched  out.  The 
solemn  services  of  this  hour  are  unheeded  by  him. 
Here  are  his  poor  remains.  The  earthly  house 
lies  here  in  ruins.  The  soul  hath  gone  to  its  end- 
less home ;  fixed  in  an  immortal  state.  His  was  a 
sad  history,  all  but  the  bright  morning.  Then,  in 
innocence  he  looked  out  and  on  his  future.  And 
how  bright  was  that  future,  as  his  fancy  drew  it. 
A  long  unclouded  day  of  prosperity.  Perhaps  a 
happy  life  with  loved  ones,  blest  with  quiet  and 
contentment.  Or,  it  may  be,  with  more  ambitious 
hopes,  sketching  out  a  life  of  honorable  distinction 
and  successful  competition  in  the  race  for  a  more 
dazzling  prize.  0,  how  he  mused  of  years  in 
which  no  wish  should  remain  uncrowned  —  no  want 
unsupplied.  But  how  dreadful  to  compare  the 


THE  CONVICT'S  FUNERAL.  231 

anticipated  with  the  real.  He  came  down  from 
those  green  hills  a  careless,  yet  not  a  malicious 
young  man;  prayerless,  yet  not  infidel ;  rude,  but 
not  unkind.  And  when,  from  that  hill  top,  he 
looked  back  for  the  last  time  on  the  home  of  his 
childhood,  it  was  plain  his  was  not  a  hard  heart, 
for  he  wept  as  he  turned  his  face  towards  the  city ; 
and  his  tears  gushed  out  again  and  again,  at  each 
object  that  reminded  him  of  home.  O,  young  man 
why  did'st  thou  not  turn  aside  and,  kneeling  down, 
say :  "  My  father,  thou  art  the  guide  of  my  youth." 
Why  did'st  thou  not,  like  one  of  old,  make  a  cove- 
nant with  God,  that  he  might  keep  thee  and  bless 
thee. 

But  why  do  I  ask  this  slumberer  ?  He  heeds  it 
not.  My  words  enter  not  into  the  cold  ear  of 
death ;  and  no  living  spirit  is  within  this  coffined 
dust  to  answer.  "For  the  dead  know  not  any- 
thing." Then  let  the  living  lay  this  to  heart.  Our 
young  friend,  in  the  gay  city  or  the  bustling  village, 
found  what  our  first  parents  found  in  paradise  —  a 
tempter,  and  a  temptation.  Like  them,  in  an  evil 
hour,  he  yielded  and  fell.  And  then  the  result. 
Alas,  my  brethren,  you  can  but  imagine  the  scenes 
that  followed.  The  trampling  of  feet,  that  told 
of  the  presence  of  his  pursuers ;  the  loud  voice 
that  first  declared  him  prisoner;  the  chains,  the 


232  PRISON   REMINISCENCES. 

court,  the  decision,  the  sentence,  the  dreary  jour- 
ney to  this  place,  that  room  in  which  was  exchanged 
the  garb  of  citizenship  for  these  loathed  garments, 
whose  unseemly  blending  witness  to  all  beholders 
your  degraded  state.  All  this  was  in  the  history 
of  this  young  man.  And  here  his  earthly  career 
ended.  There  was  no  breaking  out  from  behind 
that  dark  cloud  of  his  life's  setting  sun ;  and  if  a 
bow  of  promise  ever  seemed  to  rest  upon  it,  it  was 
but  a  gay  illusion.  He  sickened,  but  no  watchful 
mother's  eye  detected  the  earliest  symptom  of  dis- 
ease. He  declined,  but  no  mother's  skill  or  care 
came  to  his  rescue.  He  languished,  but  no  moth- 
^r's  soft  footstep  was  heard,  nor  mother's  look  of 
love  shone  upon  those  ghastly  features.  He  died, 
but  heard  no  mother's  blessing,  no  father's  pray- 
ers. He  passed  off,  and  heard  no  farewell  sen- 
tence uttered,  and  felt  no  parting  kiss.  From  that 
neat  cottage  on  that  green  slope,  a  voice  of  dis- 
tress will  break  out.  The  quiet  neighbor  will  be 
startled  by  the  sound  of  weeping  and  loud  lament  ; 
and  wondering,  to  learn  its  cause,  will  run  swiftly 
to  the  place.  Let  your  imagination  finish  the  sad 
picture.  Heart  broken  parents.  How  sincere 
that  exclamation,  "  0  my  son,  would  to  God  I  had 
died  in  thy  stead.  O,  my  son,  my  son ! "  May 
"he  who  tempers  the  wind  to  the  shorn  lamb," 
care  for  thee,  and  thy  smitten  flock. 


THE  CONVICT'S  FUNERAL.  233 

Ye  living  men,  spared  in  mercy  a  little  longer, 
to  you  is  this  voice  of  warning  sent.  Every  de- 
parture of  a  soul  is  an  instructive  lesson,  and  how 
numerous  have  these  always  been  to  us. 

"  Deaths  stand  like  Mercuries  along  our  way, 
And  kindly  point  us  to  our  journey's  end. 

Hard  is  the  heart,  and  quite  hopeless  the  condition 
of  that  man  whom  death  no  longer  instructs ;  who 
with  an  unfeeling  heart  can  see  his  fellows  fall  by 
shafts  to  which  himself  is  equally  exposed.  May 
God  "  so  teach  us  to  number  our  days,  that  we  may 
apply  our  hearts  unto  wisdom." 

Prayer  is  now  offered,  while  the  stillness  of  the 
coffined  dead  scarce  exceeds  that  of  the  living.  A 
silence  broken  only  by  a  sigh,  or  perhaps  a  burst 
of  grief,  from  some  one  unable  to  exercise  self- 
control.  Again  the  ranks  are  in  motion;  they 
pass  the  pale  sleeper,  cast  their  last  look  upon  his 
countenance,  and  march  to  their  work.  The  hearse 
enters  through  the  great  gate,  and  receiving  its 
dead,  passes  out.  The  officers  and,  attendants,  in 
number  suitable  to  perform  the  simple  office  of  de- 
positing "  dust  to  dust,"  follow  on,  and  the  work  is 
soon  accomplished. 
20* 


234  PBISON  REMINISCENCES. 


CHAPTER    XXI. 

THE  CONVICTS'  BURIAL  GROUND. 

LET  us  visit  it.  It  is  near  at  hand ;  just  on  the 
skirt  of  our  beautiful  city.  The  surrounding 
scenery  is  charming.  In  front  stands  the  ancient 
temple  in  which,  more  than  a  century  since,  our 
fathers  worshipped.  Its  outward  form  is  un- 
changed. Its  tall  spire  still  points  to  the  home 
of  those  who  once  entered  its  doors.  Though  the 
great  congregation  no  longer  gathers  there  to  hear 
the  word  of  life,  yet  is  it  worthily  occupied  by  wise 
and  pious  teachers,  and  by  God's  young  servants 
dedicated  to  him  and  to  his  church,  those  "  study- 
ing to  show  themselves  approved  unto  God,  work- 
men that  need  not  be  ashamed." 

Beautiful  are  the  surrounding  homes  of  those 
connected  with  the  institution,  and  of  the  citizens. 
Lovely  the  varied  group  of  hill,  and  valley,  and 
plain ;  and  charming  the  tranquil  river,  flowing 
slowly,  and  with  many  a'  graceful  bend,  onward 
toward  the  ocean,  like  the  good  man  to  the  bound- 


THE  CONVICTS'  BURIAL  GROUND.          235 

less  sea  of  love.  We  will  enter.  It  is  the  early 
burying  place.  Here 

"  Where  heaves  the  turf  in  many  a  mould'ring  heap, 
Each,  in  his  narrow  bed  forever  laid, 
The  honored  fathers  of  the  hamlet  sleep." 

They  were  an  ancestry  of  which  we  are  justly 
proud.  Their  memory  will  never  perish.  Their 
monuments,  decent  and  suitably  costly,  perform 
a  truthful  office,  as  they  testify  to  the  virtues  of  the 
departed.  Here  is  little  of  that  extravagant  flat- 
tery, but  little  of  pious  falsehood,  such  as  abounds 
in  many  cemeteries  in  our  land,  and  well  deserving 
of  the  rebuke  of  the  witty  Sydney  Smith,  who,  as 
he  walked  into  such  a  grave  yard,  slowly  and  sol- 
emnly lifting  up  his  hands,  exclaimed,  "Here  lie 
the  dead,  and  here  the  living  LIE."  These  lines 
of  the  inimitable  Gray,  with  but  a  trifling  altera- 
tion, describe  in  this  respect  our  cemetery. 


"  Their  names,  their  age 

The  place  of  fame  and  elegy  supply, 
And  many  a  holy  sentence  here  engraved, 
Doth  teach  the  living  Christian  how  to  die." 

Here  is  the  usual  grouping  of  the  dead.  This,  like 
all  other  places  of  the  dead,  is  a  "land  without 
order."  "The  small  and  the  great  are  here." 
"  The  rich  and  the  poor  meet  together."  And  how 


4 

236  PRISON   REMINISCENCES. 

quiet!  The  spirit  of  rivalry  has  departed;  the 
fires  of  ambition  have  burned  and  gone  out;  and 
where  that  proud  one  was  laid  down  there  is  but 
a  heap  of  dust.  Here,  side  by  side,  rest  political 
rivals,  blending  their  ashes  in  common  soil.  The- 
ologians, once  disagreeing,  and  it  may  be,  rather 
rending;  than  building  up,  the  truth  of  Jesus, 
though  with  honest  aim.  Men  of  ambitious  minds, 
now  quiet,  though  possessed  of  only  each  his  small 
share  of  earth.  The  halls  of  legislation  have 
emptied  themselves  for  this  place.  Here  is  "  His 
Excellency,"  the  Governor,  and  the  honorable  coun- 
cillor. The  court,  the  judges,  the  sheriff,  jurors, 
counsel,  witnesses,  and  spectators ;  all  are  here. 
The  Asylum,  the  home  of  such  as  are  bereft  of 
God's  best  gift,  next  to  eternal  life,  has  sent  its 
colony  to  this  place,  and  they  are  quiet.  The 
peaceful  agriculturist  lies  low  in  the  earth,  the  sur- 
face of  which  he  once  tilled.  The  merchant,  no 
longer  counting  on  his  gains ;  the  man  of  skill, 
whose  "right  hand  has  now  forgot  its  cunning." 
Nor  these  only.  Planted  side  by  side,  as  is  most 
fit,  are  the  mothers,  the  wives,  and  the  daughters. 
What  a  host  —  intelligent,  courageous,  virtuous, 
accomplished,  beautiful  —  have  entered  these  gates, 
and  are  associated  with  those  whom  they  loved 
and  blest  in  life.  The  sweet  flowers  that  were 


THE  CONVICTS'  BURIAL  GROUND.  237 

nipped  by  the  frosts  of  death,  in  vast  numbers,  here 
wait  their  second  spring  time.     Then  shall  they 

"  Revive  with  ever-during  bloom, 
Safe  from  diseases  and  decline." 

It  would  be  gratifying  to  step  aside  and  moral- 
ize on  each  of  the  sleeping  ones.  There  is  one 
grave  we  will  visit.  Here,  under  this  monument 
of  decent  size  and  good  material,  and  which  speaks 
in  the  language  of  respect  and  of  friendship  for 
the  dead,  rests  the  mortal  remains  of  the  last  slave 
that  lived  and  died  in  New  Hampshire.  Her  life 
had  in  it  nothing  of  slavery  but  the  name;  and 
when  she  died,  the  last  vestige  of  slavery  nominal, 
was  blotted  from  our  records.  How  long  shall  it 
be  ere  the  grateful  heart  shall  muse  at  the  grave 
of  the  last  slave  in  our  Union.  God  hasten  the 
day. 

Here,  it  seems,  sleeps  what  was  once  a  human 
form.  But 

"  Unknown  the  region  of  his  birth, 
The  time  in  which  he  died  unknown; 
His  name  is  perished  from  the  earth; 
His  grave  remains  alone." 

No  one  shall  know  his  history  until  the  resur- 
rection. Around  this  grave  there  were  once  gath- 
ered a  group  of  persons.  There  were  hearts  that 


238  PEISON  BEMINISCENCES. 

loved  him,  and  tears  once  fell  on  this  grave.  But 
they  who  loved  and  wept  are  gone.  We  ask  in 
vain  for  more  of  this  man's  history  than  is  sug- 
gested by  our  own  experience  and  observation. 

"  The  bounding  pulse,  the  languid  limb, 
The  changing  spirits  rise  and  fall ; 
We  know  that  these  were  felt  by  Mm, 
For  these  are  felt  by  cHL 

"  He  suffered,  but  his  pangs  are  o'er; 
Enjoyed,  but  his  delights  are  fled ; 
Had  friends  —  his  friends  are  now  no  more ; 
And  foes  —  his  foes  are  dead. 

"  He  saw  whatever  thou  hast  seen, 

Encountered  all  that  troubles  thee, 
He  was  whatever  thou  hast  been, 
He  is,  what  thou  shalt  be." 

We  pass  to  near  the  centre  of  the  yard.  Here 
is  a  large  space  on  which  there  is  no  monument, 
not  even  the  humblest  stone,  or  any  mark  of  re- 
spect for  the  departed.  And  yet  the  whole  space 
is  broken  up,  and  thickly  tenanted  by  the  dead. 
How  is  this  ?  A  part  of  these  are  the  graves  of 
convicts ;  but  I  am  compelled  to  speak  of  another 
class,  whose  history  does  not  a  little  dishonor  our 
state.  During  the  war  of  1812,  a  battalion  of  vol- 
unteers were  stationed  in  this  city  for  a  time. 
The  terrible  spotted  fever  broke  out  among  them, 


THE  CONVICTS'  BURIAL  GROUND.          239 

and  some  forty  of  those  brave  young  men  were 
suddenly,  and  far  from  home,  carried  to  a  soldier's 
grave.  And  these  are  their  graves  ;  the  unnoticed, 
unhonored,  forgotten  graves  of  those  young  and 
ardent  defenders  of  our  country;  now  one  vast 
republic ;  boundless,  almost,  in  its  extent,  wealth, 
and  resources.  Her  sons  who  fell  in  defending  her 
in  days  of  weakness  and  peril,  when  threatened 
by  disunion  at  home,  and  by  active  war  with  the 
most  powerful  nation  on  earth;  these  sons,  offered 
on  the  altar  of  our  safety,  are  not  deemed  worthy 
of  even  a  block  of  granite  from  our  own  moun- 
tains, to  perpetuate  their  names.  The  young  men 
of  that  war  were  not  gleaned  from  the  idle,  and 
worthless,  and  vicious,  as  is  often  the  case  in  rais- 
ing recruits  for  war.  They  were  the  sons  of  pa- 
triotic fathers  and  mothers;  bred  in  the  stormy 
days  of  the  revolution,  and  whose  love  of  country 
was  not  mere  pretence.  True,  self-sacrificing  pa- 
triotism had  not  then  become  scarce.  A  disloyal 
spirit  was  frowned  upon,  and  true  love  of  liberty 
honored.  The  history  of  one  too  young  to  render 
service,  but  not  too  young  to  love  his  country,  is 
in  substance  the  history  of  each  of  those  young 
men.  He,  from  the  earliest  period  of  his  recollec- 
tion, had  listened  to  the  oft  repeated  story  of  a 
father  who,  with  bare  and  bleeding  feet,  had  fol- 


240  PRISON   EEMINISCENCES. 

lowed  the  father  of  our  country  through  some  of 
his  most  disastrous  campaigns.  Who,  beginning  a 
frail  youth  of  sixteen,  bravely  held  on  in  his  coun- 
try's service,  until  reduced  by  fatigue  and  sickness, 
he  was  borne  to  his  home ;  and  then,  when  still  but 
half  recruited,  back  again  to  assist  in  filling  up  the 
thinned  ranks  of  our  veteran  army.  And  he  had 
heard  (sitting  by  his  mother's  side,  and  resting  his 
young  head  on  her  checked  apron,)  how  her  dear 
old  father,  a  veteran  of  the  French  war,  went  forth 
again  at  the  call  of  his  old  captain,  then  General 
Putnam,  taking  his  five  sons ;  and  how,  while  at 
times  all  were  at  once  engaged  in  their  country's 
service,  her  time  was  divided  between  the  atten- 
tions demanded  by  an  invalid  mother,  and  cultivat- 
ing and  gathering  the  harvest  with  her  own  hands. 
And  then  she  would  speak  of  Valley 'Forge,  where 
sleep  the  ashes  of  one  of  the  brothers ;  and  of 
Cambridge,  where  another  fell.  That  lad  is  now 
a  man  of  peace,  and  counts  war  a  calamity ;  less, 
however,  to  be  deplored  than  bondage.  And  from 
his  heart  he  honors  the  memory  of  the  dead, 
whether  they  fell  by  disease,  or  the  bullet,  or  bay- 
onet. Now  they  who  slumber  here,  were  the  sons 
of  revolutionary  sires  and  mothers ;  trained  to  the 
motto,  "  God  and  our  country,"  they  flew  to  the 
banner  of  freedom.  The  father  and  mother  loved 


THE  CONVICTS'  BURIAL  GROUND.  241 

the  son,  but  proudly,  and  with  Spartan  firmness, 
sent  him  forth.  He  came  not  again.  When  he  died, 
he  thought  of  home  and  wept,  but  hoped  he  had 
done  his  duty  to  his  country,  and  that  his  memory 
might  be  cherished.  And  so  hoped  the  parents. 
Vain  hope  1  In  1846,  Hon.  Asa  Fowler,  of  Con- 
cord, introduced  a  resolution  in  the  House  of  Rep- 
resentatives, having  as  its  object  the  erection  of  a 
suitable  monument  to  their  memory.  It  failed, 
however ;  and  the  soldier  sleeps  unremembered,  but 
not  undisturbed,  for  from  time  to  time  the  spade 
of  the  sexton  breaks  in  upon  their  repose,  and 
makes  room  for  a  felon's  corpse. 

Here  sleep  the  ashes  of  departed  convicts.  It 
is,  perhaps,  well  that  they  should  fall  into  forget- 
fulness,  since  even  their  personal  friends  could  not 
wish 


their  merits  to  disclose, 


Or  draw  their  frailties  from  their  dread  abode, 
Where  they  alike  in  trembling  hope  repose, 
The  bosom  of  their  father  and  their  God." 


But  one  cannot  well  avoid  feeling  deep  sorrow,  as, 
standing  on  this  neglected  spot,  he  thinks  how 
different  might  have  been  the  life  and  death  of 
these  men.  How  many  of  them  .might  have  been 
21 


242  PRISON  REMINISCENCES. 

good,  or  even  comparatively  great  men.  "Who  can 
say  ?  We  need  not  extravagantly  muse. 

"  Perhaps,  in  this  neglected  spot  is  laid 
Some  heart  once  pregnant  with  celestial  fire, 
Hands  that  the  rod  of  empire  might  have  swayed, 
Or  waked  to  ecstacy  the  living  lyre." 

But  those  are  here  sleeping  now  who  possessed  a 
strong  intellect  or  a  kind  heart,  or  untiring  activity 
or  indomitable  courage.  But  there  was  no  re- 
straining, guiding,  helping  hand,  just  when  such  aid 
was  indispensable.  The  child  was  left  to  the  di- 
rection that  bad  influence  gave ;  and  if 

"  A  dew-drop  on  the  tender  plant 
May  warp  the  giant  oak  forever," 

it  is  not  strange  that  the  combined  influence  of 
multifarious  evils  should  have  produced  the  sad 
results.  Let  no  one,  then,  walk  with  a  proud  heart 
and  a  lofty  footstep  over  these  humble  graves ;  or 
impiously  "  thank  God  that  he  is  not  as  other  men, 
or  even  as  these  poor  publicans."  Be  humble,  and 
remember  that  the  conferring  of  superior  advan- 
tages, has  placed  you  under  increased  responsibili- 
ties ;  and  it  shall  be  more  tolerable  for  the  tenants 
of  these  unhonored  graves,  in  the  day  of  judgment, 
than  for  you,  unless  the  bounteous  culture  of  your 


THE  CONVICTS'  BURIAL  GROUND.  243 

youth  is  crowned  with  a  life  of  piety.  And  I  can- 
not doubt  that  when  the  voice  of  the  archangel, 
and  the  trump  of  God  shall  wake  the  dead, 
there  shall  come  forth  from  these  graves  some 
whom  Jesus  will  acknowledge  as  his  sons.  Some 
who,  when  all  else  was  lost  —  friends,  reputation, 
liberty  —  fled  to  their  only  refuge.  By  penitence 
and  humble  prayer,  they  sought  a  better  than  an 
earthly  portion.  God,  whose  "grace  aboundeth 
to  the  chief  of  sinners,"  heard  and  accepted. 
Though  they  died  in  prison,  they  died  in  peace. 
This  shall  give  us  comfort  as  we  turn  away  from 
this  sad  spot  of  earth.  In  the  day  of  general  har- 
vest it  shall  yield  to  "  the  reapers  —  the  angels," 
some  sheaves. 


244  PRISON  REMINISCENCES. 


CHAPTER    XXII. 

PRISON   DISCIPLINE. 

THAT  religion,  (by  which  I  mean  the  "love  of 
God,"  showing  itself  in  deeds  of  love  to  all  of 
human  kind,)  is  achieving  its  victories,  and  more 
and  more  prevailing ;  that  it  is  not  only  visiting 
the  dark  habitations  of  cruelty  in  Pagan  lands,  and 
subduing  the  ferocious  passions  of  the  heathen 
world ;  but  that  it 

"  Spreads  undivided,  operates  unspent; " 

or  that,  in  othej*  words,  it  increases  in  vitality 
and  efficiency  at  home,  it  seems  no  intelligent  man 
will  deny.  Not  that  every  individual  is  more 
religious  now  than  a  year  since,  or  that  every  local 
church  is  more  active  or  prosperous.  But  taking 
our  communities  as  a  whole,  surveying  the  Chris- 
tian world  as  our  field  of  observation,  and  who 
does  not  rejoice  to  find  the  proposition  well  sus- 
tained. We  are  to  judge  of  religion  by  its  fruits. 
By  this  rule  of  judgment,  compare  the  present  with 
a  half  century  past,  and  what  do  we  find  to  be  the 


PEISON   DISCIPLINE.  245 

result.  Whether  we  take  into  account  the  codes 
of  law  of  all  existing  constitutional  governments, 
or  the  morals  of  the  people,  or  the  prevalence  of 
charity,  forbearance  and  good  fellowship,  among 
the  various  religious  denominations,  we  arrive  at 
the  same  conclusion.  The  change  in  all  these 
respects  is  most  gratifying. 

But  in  no  view  does  progr ess  exhibit  its  blessed 
results  more  than  in  the  condition  of  our  prisons, 
and  the  treatment  of  convicts. 

The  first  prison  building  erected  in  Concord, 
was  built  in  1811  and  1812.  I  suppose  it  was 
constructed  after  the  best  models  of  that  day.  Its 
walls  are  of  granite  and  of  great  strength.  Its 
floors  and  partitions  of  the  same  material.  Indeed 
granite  and  iron  are  the  only  materials  to  which 
the  convicts  have  access,  except  their  scanty  articles 
of  furniture  and  their  clothing.  The  building  is 
about  eighty  feet  by  thirty,  and  three  stories.  An 
aisle  runs  through  each  story,  ten  feet  wide,  and  on 
each  side  of  this,  and  built  on  the  outward  wall 
of  the  building,  are  the  cells  in  which  the  convicts 
were  kept  when  not  at  work.  These  cells  were 
ten  feet  square,  and  six  and  a  half  feet  high. 

They  were  entered  by  heavy  iron  doors,  fas- 
tened by  enormous  padlocks  and  bars.  Into  each 
of  them  from  four  to  six  men  were  put,  and  spent 


246  PRISON   REMINISCENCES. 

all  their  time  in  unrestrained  intercourse  with  each 
other,  unless  they  became  so  noisy  as  to  disturb 
others.  The  only  chance  for  ventilation  was  an 
aperture  left  in  the  outer  wall,  twenty  inches  by 
three,  and  what  little  might  be  had  through  a 
small  space  of  perhaps  an  inch  wide  at  the  top  and 
bottom  of  the  cell  door. 

In  the  heat  of  summer  imagine  what  must  be  the 
state  of  the  atmosphere  when,  as  is  often  the  case, 
we  have  a  week  or  ten  days  of  intense  heat,  and 
the  stone  walls  seem  as  if  heated  by  fire.  Even 
when  well  ventilated,  at  such  times  they  become 
very  uncomfortable ;  what  then  must  they  have  been 
when  scarcely  the  least  circulation  could  be  had. 
Added  to  this,  the  habits  of  the  prisoners  were  not 
so  well  attended  to  formerly  as  now.  Many  of 
them  were  disgustingly  filthy.  Most  of  them  used 
tobacco ;  and  added  to  all,  the  night  vessels  of  a  half 
dozen  men,  shut  up  during  the  winter  months,  for 
from  fourteen  to  sixteen  hours  daily,  and  in  summer 
from  twelve  to  fourteen.  In  the  winter  there  was 
of  course,  no  heat  introduced,  no  fire,  no  protec- 
tion whatever  from  the  cold,  but  what  the  cold 
granite  walls,  and  their  scanty  clothing  and  bedding 
afforded.  Imagine  if  you  can  the  sufferings  of  men, 
with  the  thermometer  at  from  zero,  to  twenty-five 
degrees  below,  compelled  to  turn  in  from  work 


PEISON   DISCIPLINE.  247 

shops  and  spend  the  night  as  best  they  could.  The 
wind,  keen  and  piercing,  finds  its  way  through  the 
apertures  of  ventilation,  and  through  the  crevices 
of  the  door.  Almost  perishing  with  cold,  they  take 
from  their  scanty  store  of  clothing,  and  close  up 
their  only  channels  of  ventilation.  They  thus  pur- 
chased a  little  mitigation  of  suffering  from  the  cold, 
but  at  the  expense  of  fresh  air,  and  had  their  choice 
of  evils,  whether  to  freeze  or  suffocate.  Some 
would  prefer  the  one,  and  some  the  other,  hence 
furious  quarrels  would  frequently  occur,  and  blows 
be  given  and  returned,  officers  called  in,  and  punish- 
ments ;  for  who  does  not  deserve  severe  punishment 
for  refusing  to  be  quiet  when  so  very  comfortable. 
To  me  it  is  quite  surprising  that  any  man  could 
live  a  year,  under  such  a  state  of  things.  And 
then  during  the  cold  storms  of  spring  and  autumn, 
the  poor  fellows  must  come  from  their  work  in  a 
state  of  perspiration,  and  first  marching  their  rounds 
in  the  rain,  pass  to  their  cells,  which  never  felt  the 
influence  of  fire,  and  pass  the  nights  as  best  they 
could  in  utter  darkness. 

The  shops  in  which  the  men  wrought,  were  mis- 
erably poor,  choked  with  dust  and  smoke,  ill-con- 
structed, and  badly  ventilated.  The  poor  fellows 
found  but  little  comfort  by  day,  and  less  by  night. 
Now,  my  friend,  just  step  in  with  me  and  visit  the 


248  PRISON   EEMINISCENCES. 

prison  of  1855.  Here  are  the  shops  for  work, 
of  convenient  size  and  form,  and  arrangement. 
Suitable  avenues  abundantly  ventilate,  and  carry 
off  the  dust  and  smoke.  The  floor  and  ceiling, 
and  all  the  furniture  is  clean  and  neat. 

The  work  is  made  easy  by  machinery.  All  the 
men,  without  looking  up  or  around  them,  keep  busy 
at  work.  No  one  is  hurried  or  overworked,  and 
every  thing  is  as  neat  and  well  conducted  as  the 
best  shops  outside.  Here  as  we  pass  on  to  the 
hall,  are  the  rooms  for  cooking,  which  is  performed 
by  steam.  Every  thing  here  is  neat.  Pass  on : 
here  is  the  hall,  and  in  its  centre  are  the  cells. 
There  are  three  tiers,  one  above  another,  making 
on  both  sides  one  hundred  and  twenty  cells.  These 
are  the  bedrooms  of  the  convicts.  The  furniture 
consists  of  a  chair,  a  couch,  turning  up  to  the  side 
of  the  cell  when  not  in  use,  and  provided  with  clean 
and  comfortable  bedding,  and  the  shelf  containing 
the  bible  and  other  good  books,  writing  apparatus, 
slate,  a  small  looking-glass,  and  the  printed  "  rules 
of  the  prison." 

Around  the  hall,  and  between  the  cells  and  the 
prison  walls,  is  a  spacious  walk  of  some  ten  feet 
in  width.  Part  of  each  cell  door  is  grated,  and  the 
hall  and  the  cells  well  ventilated,  and  kept  clean 
by  frequent  sweeping,  dusting,  and  the  application 


PEISON    DISCIPLINE.  249 

of  whitewash.  The  shades  of  night  come  on,  and 
the  brilliant  gas  lights  illuminate  the  hall  and  cells 
beautifully.  By  day,  the  well  cleaned  glass  admits 
the  light  freely.  In  cold  weather  the  whole  is 
warmed  by  steam  pipes,  and  the  degree  regulated 
by  a  thermometer.  Accomodations  for  clothing 
are  also  provided,  and  all  are  required  to  cleanse 
themselves  and  keep  everything  about  them  neat. 
So  much  for  the  physical  change.  Now  look  at  the 
mental  and  moral. 

In  the  first  place  we  have  scon  that  from  four 
to  six  convicts  were  formerly  placed  in  one  cell, 
and  had  unrestrained  liberty  to  converse  with  each 
other  during  all  the  time  they  were  not  at  work; 
hence  originated  frequent  plans  for  escape.  So 
many  experienced  rogues  laying  their  wits  together 
could  but  form  plans  difficult  to  detect,  and  fre- 
quently successful.  To  this  they  were  farther 
driven  by  their  physical  sufferings.  These  made 
them  desperate ;  and  believing  they  could  not  fare 
much  worse,  they  would  enter  readily  into  any 
plans  that  seemed  likely  to  bring  about  any  change. 
In  some  instances  such  plans  would  occupy  the 
minds  of  a  gang  a  whole  year,  and  require  the 
labor  of  months.  The  officers  were  vigilant  and 
faithful,  but  in  some  cases  an  ominous  hole  in  the 
wall,  and  an  empty  cell  would  show,  that  intense 


250  PRISON   REMINISCENCES. 

"suffering  and  mutual  counsel  would  make  men 
shrewd.  This,  however,  was  not  the  worst  of  it. 
The  officers  could  not  avoid  placing  men  of  com- 
manding talent,  leaders  in  wickedness,  and  giants 
in  crime  in  the  same  cell  with  young  men,  and  men 
just  commencing  a  life  of  guilt  and  infamy.  To 
have  put  a  company  of  the  worst  men  together, 
would  have  been  to  set  them  to  butcher  each  other, 
and  beside  the  character  of  the  convicts  would  not 
always  be  known.  Suppose  then,  a  young  man  for 
his  first  offense,  now  enters  a  cell  for  the  first 
time.  He  is  penitent,  for  he  is  not  an  old  offender. 
On  his  way  to  the  prison  he  was  thinking  of 
home,  and  mother,  and  sister.  0,  how  the  sight 
of  the  granite  structure  chilled  his  soul.  How  his 
heart  sunk  within  him  as  he  entered,  and  he  fully 
purposed  to  reform.  His  first  crime  should  be  his 
last  one.  Such  was  his  resolution  when  he  first 
walked  into  his  cell,  and  such  his  determination  as 
looking  out  through  the  narrow  aperture  he  saw 
the  sun  setting,  and  thought  of  home.  But  the 
bell  rings,  the  convicts  come  in,  the  cell's  company 
enter,  rough,  hard  men.  He  looks  up  and  shrinks 
from  them.  The  impress  of  guilt  is  upon  their 
countenances  j  the  language  of  hell  upon  their 
lips.  He  trembles  and  weeps,  but  they  laugh  at 
his  tears,  and  half  pitying,  half  jeering,  tell  him  to 


PRISON    DISCIPLINE.  251 

cheer  up,  and  they  will  make  a  smart  fellow  of  him. 
And  what  room  is  there  to  hope  in  such  a  case? 
The  poor  fellow  may  hold  on  to  his  purposes  of 
amendment ;  but  will  he  be  likely  to  do  so  ?  Is  it 
not  almost  reduced  to  a  moral  certainty  that,  cor- 
rupted by  the  moral  atmosphere,  seduced  by  the 
tales  of  successful  villainy,  and  hardened  by  profane 
and  obscene  conversation,  he  will  lose  all  his  good 
resolutions,  forget  all  his  solemn  vows,  abandon 
himself  to  the  pursuit  of  vice  and  crime,  and  be 
ruined  forever. 

Is  a  convict  in  such  circumstances  exercised  with 
anxiety  relative  to  his  sinful  state ;  and  does  he 
weep  at  the  remembrance  of  his  sins,  he  is  soon 
marked,  and  by  a  thousand  arts,  such  as  few  have 
sagacity  or  firmness  to  resist,  his  ruin  is  sought, 
and  generally  effected.  A  very  worthy  and  pious 
man,  once  an  officer  in  our  prison,  informed  me 
that  in  pursuance  of  his  duty,  he  had  often  listened 
at  their  cell  doors,  and  had,  hundreds  of  times, 
been  shocked  at  such  language  as  he  had  nowhere 
else  heard.  An  old  and  hardened  offender  would 
be  relating  to  the  listening  company,  how  he  had 
managed  to  ruin  some  innocent  and  unsuspecting 
female  ;  artfully  giving  his  story  a  form  and  finish 
that  would  leave  the  most  deleterious  impression 
on  the  mind  of  his  auditors.  Another  would  give  a 


252  PEISON   REMINISCENCES. 

relation  of  some  successful  attempt  to  rob  or  steal, 
interlarded  with  incidents  of  hairbreadth  escapes  or 
reckless  adventure ;  feats  of  prison  breaking,  the 
best  way  of  eluding  the  officers  of  justice,  or  escaping 
detection  by  involving  others  in  suspicion,  would 
come  up  as  themes  of  conversation ;  and  when  the 
stock  of  original  matter  became  exhausted,  some 
one  would  commence  a  tale  of  murder,  or  piracy,  or 
highway  robbery,  which  he  had  read,  and  thus  the 
conversation  and  the  interest  were  kept  up.  0, 
how  many  convicts  have  thus,  in  former  years,  been 
trained  to  crime.  They  have  graduated  from  the 
prison  ripe  for  the  pursuit  of  vice.  They  have 
gone  out  to  be  leaders  in  iniquity,  and  with  the 
knowledge  here  gained,  have  been  the  terror  of 
community,  for  years  having  learned,  among  other 
things,  how  to  avoid  detection. 

Under  the  present  arrangement,  there  can  be  but 
little  communication  betwen  the  convicts.  By  day 
each  keeps  at  his  work,  and  does  not  even  cast  a 
look  at  his  fellow  workmen.  All  are  under  the  eye 
of  an  overseer,  and  no  opportunity  occurs  for  conver- 
sation, except  with  the  very  few  who  are  employed 
as  cooks,  or  in  some  service  in  the  yard ;  and  these 
are  selected  from  the  quiet  and  well  disposed 
class.  Hence,  all  the  corrupting  influence  of  for- 
mer years  has  ceased ;  an  improvement  of  incalcu- 


PRISON   DISCIPLINE.  253 

lable  value.  It  is  frequently  asked :  Is  it  not  cruel 
to  forbid  men  to  look  at  each  other,  or  to  converse 
together  ?  From  free  conversation  with  the  con- 
victs, I  am  persuaded  that  the  most  intelligent  class 
of  them  do  not  desire  it :  and  especially  such  as 
are  desirous  of  profiting  by  their  imprisonment. 
It  affords  no  satisfaction  to  one  who  has  a  regard 
for  reputation,  to  have  his  countenance  scrutinized 
by  every  anxious  visitor.  To  be  looked  at  as  a 
vicious  wild  beast,  and  to  know  that  comments  are 
being  made  on  his  character,  as  well  as  opinions 
formed  and  expressed  as  to  the  indications  of  his 
face.  Most  of  the  convicts  had  rather  not  meet 
the  eye  of  such  visitors ;  and  though  at  first  it  re- 
quires some  care,  and  perhaps  is  really  a  privation, 
yet  soon  it  becomes  easy,  and  not  disagreeable. 
And  as  to  conversation  with  other  convicts,  I  think 
most  of  them  are  convinced  of  the  wisdom  of  that 
rule,  however  it  might  be  pleasant  to  hear  the  hu- 
man voice  in  social  intercourse. 

But  the  greatest  improvement  in  the  manage- 
ment of  prisons,  after  all,  is  found  in  the  direct 
and  well-aimed  effort  to  promote  the  mental  and 
moral  welfare  of  the  men.  The  true  end  of  pun- 
ishment seems  to  have  been  ascertained.  For- 
merly, it  was  supposed  to  be  wholly  vindictive,  or 
retaliatory.  "Imprison  him  because  he  deserves 
22 


254  PRISON   REMINISCENCES. 

it."  "Punish  him,  for  men  must  learn  to  respect 
the  majesty  of  the  law."  Hence,  the  system  was 
a  very  simple  one,  and  well  expressed  in  that  vul- 
gar saying,  "take  it  out  of  his  hide,"  "lay  on," 
"give  it  to  him." 

This  view  of  the  subject  was  seen  by  kind- 
hearted  men  to  be  false  and  inhuman,  and  in  their 
detestation  of  it,  they  embraced  an  error  on  the  op- 
posite extreme.  So  true  it  is  that  the  movements  of 
the  public  mind  are  like  the  vibrations  of  a  pendu- 
lum ;  from  one  extreme  to  its  opposite.  The  error 
of  these  good  men  consisted  in  overlooking  the 
claims  of  justice  altogether,  and  making  all  punish- 
ment disciplinary,  or  rather  in  discarding  altogether 
the  idea  of  punishment.  Their  doctrine  was  this  : 
The  only  end  of  imprisonment  is  the  reform  of  the 
offender.  Hence,  if  the  man  comes  to  a  better 
state  of  mind,  and  gives  good  evidence  of  true 
reform,  he  should  be  at  once  released.  Why  not? 
True,  he  may  have  been  a  burglar,  or  even  of  a 
higher  grade  of  criminals,  but  then  the  end  of  pun- 
ishment is  reached,  and  there  punishment  should 
cease.  It  certainly  should,  my  kind-hearted  friend, 
if  your  theory  is  true ;  but  you  forget,  "  The  law 
is  to  be  a  terror  to  evil  doers."  Its  claims  must 
be  regarded;  its  penalties  suffered,  at  least  so 
far  as  to  secure  the  end  nbovenamed.  the  making 


PRISON   DISCIPLINE.  255 

it  a  "  terror  to  evil  doers,"  and  giving  security  to 
community  against  crime. 

But  let  it  once  be  understood  that  the  claims  of 
the  law  cease  when  the  criminal  relents ;  that  pun- 
ishment shall  continue  only  while  obstinacy  con- 
tinues, and  where  is  the  "  terror  of  the  law."  A 
man  inclined  to  sin,  reasons  thus :  "  Beside  my 
chance  for  escaping  detection,  if  brought -to  justice 
I  shall  only  be  dealt  with  in  a  way  and  to  an  ex- 
tent to  cure  me  of  this  propensity.  I  can  close  up 
the  account  with  justice  at  any  moment  I  please, 
by  a  profession  of  sorrow  and  promise  of  amend- 
ment; and  up  to  that  point  what  I  may  suffer  being 
altogether  of  a  remedial  character,  I  ought  not  to 
dread  it."  Such  would  be  the  reasoning  of  a  man 
capable  of  looking  into  the  subject.  Now  both  of 
these  views  take  in  truth,  but  neither  of  them  the 
whole  truth.  The  penalty  of  the  violated  law 
should,  doubtless,  be  suffered  as  punishment,  and 
thus  community  find  protection  in  that  fear  of  the 
law  which  in  that  case  would  be  inspired  in  the 
minds  of  evil  men.  Thus  the  magistrate  would 
"  bear  not  the  sword  in  vain." 

But  at  the  same  time,  such  punishment  should 
be  so  inflicted  as  to  reform  the  sinner.  This  ob- 
ject should  never  be  lost  sight  of.  The  kind,  and 
degree,  and  duration  of  punishment  should  always 


256  PEISON   REMINISCENCES. 

be  determined  by  a  consideration  of  both  these 
objects.  This  is  copying  the  divine  administration, 
and  incorporating  into  our  code  of  human  law  the 
great  principles  of  the  divine  government. 

Losing  sight  of  the  reformative  object  of  pun- 
ishment, but  little  was  done  to  instruct  the  intel- 
lect, or  benefit  the  heart.  "We  have  seen  how  fatal 
to  all  hope  of  improvement,  (except  in  evil,)  was 
the  old  method  of  imprisonment.  And,  of  course, 
no  active  efforts,  (had  they  been  made,)  would 
have  been  likely  to  work  reform.  Suppose  that 
good  books  had  been  introduced,  there  was  no  suf- 
ficient light  by  day,  by  which  to  read,  and  none  at 
all  by  night.  Then  there  would  have  been  but 
little  disposition  to  read  where,  of  a  group  of  a 
half  dozen,  most  wished  to  talk  on  matters  or 
subjects  more  gratifying  to  their  corrupt  minds  j 
and  a  sober,  studious  convict  would  find  but  little 
enjoyment  amid  such  interruptions  as  would  con- 
tinually occur.  And,  supposing,  at  long  intervals, 
some  good  man  should  volunteer  to  preach  a  ser- 
mon to  these  poor  outcasts,  his  words  would  be 
likely  to  avail  but  little.  ""Why  are  we  frozen  and 
suffocated,  and  treated  with  such  inhumanity  ? " 
would  very  naturally  be  a  question  that  would  arise 
on  going  back  to  their  cells.  "  The  preacher  said 
we  must  love  our  enemies,  and  do  good  to  all  men ; 


PRISON   DISCIPLINE.  257 

feeding  the  hungry,  clothing  the  naked,  and  com- 
miserating and  relieving  the  distrest;  and  that 
all  men  were  alike  created,  redeemed  and  cared  for 
by  God.  Our  law-makers  and  administrators  of 
justice  are  Christian  men ;  and  yet  who  thinks  of 
us  as  brethren,  or  cares  for  us  ?  "We  want  none 
of  their  religion  or  their  preaching.  We  want  the 
fresh  air  of  heaven,  and  protection  from  the  frosts 
of  winter." 

Such  would  be,  at  least,  the  feeling  of  men  suf- 
fering cruelly  and  needlessly.  How  often  they 
heard  preaching  I  cannot  determine  with  certainty, 
but  it  must  have  been  very  seldom;  and  as  to 
books  and  papers,  they  were  prohibited.  I  have 
been  told  that  a  convict  was  most  severely  pun- 
ished for  the  offence  of  having  in  possession  a  part 
of  a  leaf  of  a  religious  tract.  The  poor  fellow 
said  he  found  it  in  the  prison  yard.  Probably  the 
winds  of  heaven,  more  merciful  than  man,  had 
wafted  this  little  messenger  of  truth  to  the  sad 
convict,  with  information  that  Jesus  loved  him,  and 
that  he  recciveth  sinners  still.  He  confessed  to 
having  read  it  and  secreted  it  upon  his  person. 
This  was  a  disobedience  not  to  be  forgiven,  and  he 
was  punished.  I  do  not  suppose  the  officer  was  a 
cruel  man  above  others.  He  probably  regretted 
22* 


258  PEISON  REMINISCENCES. 

the  necessity  that  was  laid  upon  him.  It  was  the 
fault  of  the  times,  not  of  that  man. 

But  0,  think  of  it ;  you  who  are  groaning  over 
the  degeneracy  of  the  age ;  you  whose  perpetual 
lamentation  is  heard,  "  0,  tempora  !  0,  mores !  " 
Look  at  this :  a  poor  trembling  culprit  punished 
according  to  law,  and  without  one  note  of  dissent 
from  the  people  of  that  golden  age,  for  reading  on 
a  fragment  of  a  leaf,  a  sentence  of  precious  truth, 
that  saves  the  soul.  "  Say  not  in  thy  heart :  Why 
were  the  former  days  better  than  these  ;  for  in  so 
saying  thou  dost  not  inquire  wisely."  Mark  the 
change ;  scarcely  does  the  cell  door  close  upon  the 
prisoner,  when  a  pleasant  countenance  looks 
through  the  grates,  and  speaks  to  him  of  home, 
and  wife,  and  child ;  of  parent,  brother,  sister;  of 
God,  our  common  father;  Jesus,  our  redeemer; 
and  heaven,  our  home. 

Then  comes  the  teaching,  which  goes  steadily 
forward.  The  Sabbath,  with  its  rest  and  its  teach- 
ing, and  its  prayers,  and  holy  ordinances,  blesses  his 
prison  life ;  and  then  the  library,  rich  with  books, 
suited  to  the  wants  and  wishes  of  all ;  gathered 
with  care  and  expense  from  all  parts  of  the  coun- 
try and  world.  The  bright  sun  shines  beautifully 
through  the  well  cleaned  windows,  on  truths  of 
vast  importance ;  on  pages  full  of  attraction  and 


PRISON  DISCIPLINE.  259 

useful  history,  or  anecdote.  The  evening  comes, 
and  by  the  brilliant  gas-light  he  still  pursues  his 
studies.  Is  he  illiterate  on  coming  to  prison,  he 
is  urged,  encouraged,  and  assisted  to  read  and 
write.  Does  he  succeed  in  this,  he  takes  up  other 
branches  of  study,  and  makes  proficiency.  The  dis- 
cipline that  forbids  his  looking  around  by  day,  and 
deprives  him  of  conversation  by  day  or  night,  is 
favorable  to  serious  and  habitual  thinking,  and 
compels  him  to  seek  the  company  and  instruction 
of  books.  He  has  constantly  urged  upon  his  at- 
tention the  importance  of  improvement,  and  is  en- 
couraged to  look  for  better  days.  Frequent  let- 
ters come  to  him  from  friends,  like  cheering  cor- 
dials to  a  fainting  man ;  and  the  privilege  of  com- 
municating with  friends,  binds  him  more  closely  to 
them,  and  to  the  memory  of  past  days  of  inno- 
cence ;  inspiring  the  hope  that  life  will  yet  be  worth 
something  to  him.  All  this  gives  a  sense  of  God's 
mercy,  that  forsakes  not  the  penitent. 

"  There  is  mercy  in  every  place ; 

And  mercy,  encouraging  thought, 
Gives  even  affliction  a  grace, 
And  reconciles  man  to  his  lot." 

The  humane  provision  made  for  the  comfort  of 
the  convict,  impresses  his  mind  favorably  toward 
religion.  He  can  but  mark  the  contrast  between 


•260  PRISON   EEMINISCENCES. 

his  vicious  companions  who  seduced  him  from  the 
way  of  life,  and  in  whose  hearts  the  sentiments  of 
peace  and  exalted  friendship  never  dwelt  j  and  the 
true,  sincere  and  generous  friendship  of  good  men, 
whose  precepts  and  example  both  lead  to  virtue 
and  to  God. 

But  "  what  are  the  results  ? "  is  the  question. 
How  does  the  character  of  discharged  convicts 
compare  with  those  of  the  early  history  of  our 
prison.  It  would  not  be  difficult  to  prove  from 
statistics,  the  superiority  of  our  present  system.  I 
suppose  all  will  grant  that  a  re-commitment  to  prison 
is  evidence  that  the  design  of  punishment  is  not 
met  in  the  case  of  such  an  one ;  and  that  the  com- 
parative frequency  of  re-commitments  will  show 
which  system  is  the  most  efficient.  And  I  find,  on 
a  careful  examination  of  the  prison  records,  that 
re-commitments  were  far  more  common  during  the 
first  twenty  years  than  during  the  last  twenty ;  av- 
eraging, I  think,  in  proportion  of  two  to  one ;  and 
this,  too,  notwithstanding  the  intense  sufferings  of 
the  former  period,  and  the  comparative  comfort  of 
the  last.  And  the  reputation  of  discharged  con- 
victs is  certainly  vastly  better.  Formerly,  when  a 
man  was  known  as  having  been  from  the  state 
prison,  he  was  looked  upon  with  dread,  if  not  with 
detestation.  The  children  fled  into  the  house  as 


PEISON   DISCIPLINE.  261 

he  went  by.  Females  grew  pale,  and  avoided  his 
presence ;  and  all  the  more  carefully  locked  their 
doors  and  secured  their  property.  Now,  to  be 
sure,  we  watch  the  man  for  a  time ;  but  how  soon, 
if  he  conducts  himself  well,  he  meets  the  approval 
and  kindness  of  the  better  part  of  community.  If 
honest  and  industrious,  a  few  months  places  him  in 
the  public  regard  where  he  can  set  up  an  honorable 
business ;  and  go  on,  to  some  extent  at  least,  un- 
trammelled by  a  recollection  of  his  former  con- 
dition. And  with  a  few  years  of  faithfulness,  he 
becomes  rather  a  favorite  with  the  people,  who, 
perhaps,  take  to  themselves  a  share  of  the  praise 
due  his  worthy  course,  as  having  encouraged  him  — 
a  claim  which  we  by  no  means  repudiate. 

Grateful  for  partial  success,  let  the  friends  of 
the  erring  and  degraded  take  courage.  Other, 
perhaps  greater  improvements,  will  yet  be  made. 
God  will  inquire  of  us  concerning  these  men.  He 
now  inquires,  "  Where  is  thy  brother  ?  "  Let  no 
one  be  so  forgetful  of  duty,,  so  false  to  sacred 
trusts,  so  unpitying,  so  infidel,  as  to  ask  insult- 
ingly, "  Am  I  my  brother's  keeper  ?  "  Like  the 
great  Father  of  all,  let  us  learn  to  care  for  all. 
Like  the  blessed  Saviour,  let  us  seek  and  save  the 
lost.  The  more  depraved  and  degenerate,  the 
louder  do  their  miseries  call  for  our  pity,  and  the 


262  PRISON  BEMINISCENCES. 

greater  will  be  our  triumph  in  success,  and   the 
higher  our  reward  in  heaven. 

"  Now  thou  mayest  give 
The  famished  food,  the  prisoner  liberty, 
Light  to  the  darkened  mind ;  to  the  lost  soul, 
A  place  in  heaven.    Take  thou  the  privilege 
With  solemn  gratitude.    Speak,  as  thou  art 
Upon  the  earth's  surface ;  gloriously  exult 
To  be  co-worker  with  the  King  of  kings." 


FABEWELL  SEBMON.  263 


CHAPTER    XIII. 

FAREWELL   SEBMON. 

"  Let  us  hear  the  conclusion  of  the  whole  matter.  Fear  God  and  keep 
His  commandments,  for  this  is  the  whole  duty  of  man.  For  God  shall  bring 
every  work  into  judgment,  with  every  secret  thought,  whether  it  be  good 
or  whether  it  be  evil."— ECCL.  xii.  13, 14. 

As  in  the  conclusion  of  a  sermon  there  is  a 
summing  up  of  all  the  doctrines  and  duties  set 
forth  and  used,  and  suitable  considerations  pre- 
sented to  enforce  attention  to  those  doctrines,  and 
the  performance  of  those  duties,  so  the  author  of 
this  book  concludes  his  work,  "  Let  us,"  &c. 

And  in  humble  imitation  of  the  great  "  Preacher 
of  Israel,"  I  propose  to  close  my  labors  with  you. 
My  ministry  of  nine  years  is  to  close  this  hour. 
I  have  honestly,  (0,  that  it  had  been  with  more 
faith,  and  love,  and  zeal,)  yes  honestly  set  forth, 
explained,  and  enforced  the  great  doctrines  of  our 
holy  Christianity,  and  these  have  been  taken  up, 
sometimes  separately,  and  each  made  the  subject 
of  a  discourse.  At  other  times  I  have  treated  of 
them  in  their  relations  to  each  other.  It  has  been 
my  aim  to  "preach  Christ  fully,"  and  to  "keep 


264  PRISON   REMINISCENCES. 

back  nothing  that  might  be  profitable  to  you." 
And  in  like  manner  I  have  urged  its  duties,  show- 
ing that  any  other  than  a  practical  religion  is  vain. 

And  you  will  bear  me  witness  that  I  have  not 
shunned  to  declare  unto  you  the  consequences  both 
of  a  virtuous  and  a  vicious  life;  saying  to  the 
righteous  it  shall  be  well  with  him,  for  he  shall  eat 
the  fruit  of  his  doings,  and  "Woe  to  the  wicked,  it 
shall  be  ill  with  him  for  the  reward  of  his  hands 
shall  be  given  him." 

My  sermon  of  nine  years  is  now  near  its  close. 
"  Let  us  hear  the  conclusion  of  the  whole  matter." 
I  have  said  the  text  is  a  summary  of  Christianity. 
It  teaches  internal  and  external  religion. 

1.  Internal:  "Fear  God."  The  term  fear  is  not 
here  used  in  what  is  with  us  its  common  significa- 
tion, viz :  a  painful  sense  of  danger,  but  rather  in 
the  sense  of  reverence.  It  is  not  the  result  of 
guilt,  or  the  anticipation  of  punishment,  but  a  fear 
compatible  with  love.  "  It  is,"  says  one,  "  a  holy 
affection,  wrought  in  the  heart  by  God."  It  is, 
therefore,  only  another  name  for  inward  piety  im- 
planted by  the  gracious  power  of  God. 

And  this  inward,  spiritual  work  is  indispensable. 
There  is  for  it  no  substitute.  "  Ye  must  be  born 
again,"  is  the  decision  of  your  souls'  physician,  and 
is  addressed  as  well  to  the  learned  and  amiable 


FAEEWELL   SERMON.  265 

Nicodemus,  as  to  the  most  ignorant  and  immoral  of 
mankind.  Not  but  Christianity  marks  partly  all 
grades  of  character,-  and  judges  of  every  man 
according  to  his  deeds.  But  so  corrupt,  so  fallen 
is  degenerate  man,  that 

"  No  outward  forms  can  make  us  clean, 
The  leprosy  lies  deep  within." 

I  charge  you  now  most  earnestly  never  to  enter- 
tain the  thought  that  any  thing  less  than  a  true 
moral  renovation,  a  new  creation  in  Christ  Jesus, 
can  meet  thedivine  requirement;  nothing  less  than 
this  can  qualify  you  for  life ;  nothing  less  can  make 
you  meet  for  the  inheritance  of  the  saints  in  light. 
Until  then  the  impure  fountain  will  send  forth  im- 
pure waters,  and  the  bad  tree  continue  to  yield  bad 
fruit.  Should  you  ever  be  disposed  to  content 
yourself  with  any  partial  reform,  or  to  satisfy  your- 
self by  the  performance  of  mere  external  religious 
service,  remember  I  pray  you,  that  your  Saviour  has 
decided  otherwise.  He  who  formed  and  who  re- 
deemed the  soul,  and  who  knows  all  its  woes,  and 
all  its  wants  has  decided,  "Ye  must  be  born«,gain." 
As  a  sinner,  a  guilty  sinner,  you  must  have  pardon 
of  all  past  transgressions,  and  deliverance  from 
that  overwhelming  sense  of  guilt,  which  brands 
the  sinner's  soul  as  a  fallen  spirit,  a  being  to  whom 
23 


266  PRISON   REMINISCENCES. 

the  image  of  God  is  lost.  You  must  be  regenerated. 
As  a  candidate  for  a  holy  heaven  you  must  be  sanc- 
tified wholly,  soul,  body  and  spirit,  that  with  the 
church  triumphant,  you  may  say  exulting,  "  Unto 
Him  who  loved  us  and  washed  us  in  His  own  blood, 
be  glory  and  dominion  forever  and  ever." 

And  this  great  inward  work  you  have  been 
taught  is  to  be  earnestly  sought  after.  You  are  to 
"strive  to  enter  in  at  the  straight  gate,"  to  seek 
first  this  inward  kingdom,  to  make  it  the  one  great 
object  of  your  life  to  secure  it,  suffering  no  other 
claim  to  precede,  no  other  work  to  interfere  with 
the  early  and  certain  obtainment  of  this  "  pearl 
of  great  price."  At  the  same  time  you  have  learned 
how  your  infinitely  gracious  God  has  provided  for 
your  salvation. 

You  have  been  taught  that  as  "  all  have  sinned 
and  come  short  of  the  glory  of  God,"  so  Jesus 
by  "  the  grace  of  God,  tasted  death  for  every  man. 
That  as  all  have  gone  out  of  the  way,"  so  Jesus 
was  "  lifted  up  that  he  might  draw  all  nations  unto 
Him ;"  and  that  in  "  suffering  the  just  for  the  unjust, 
it  wa»  that  he  might  bring  us  to  God."  Agreeing 
to  this  foundation  thus  laid  for  the  hope  of  the 
guilty,  all  the  influences  of  God's  spirit,  and  all  the 
promises  and  invitations  of  His  word  are  universal. 
A  measure  of  His  spirit  is  given  to  every  man  to 


FAEEWELL  SEEMON.  267 

profit  withal,  and  "  whosoever  will,  may  come  and 
take  of  the  water  of  life  freely. 

And  from  this  you  have  often  been  reminded  that 
should  any  one  of  you  gain  eternal  blessedness,  his 
salvation  must  be  ascribed  to  the  grace  of  God,  for 
"  of  his  mercy  he  saved  us  j"  and  on  the  other  hand, 
should  any  one  experience  the  bitter  pains  of  eter- 
nal death,  that  soul  would  be  self-ruined.  And 
finally,  as  we  shall  see  more  particularly  hereafter, 
you  have  been  taught  to  expect  the  day  when  God 
shall  sit  in  judgment  and  yourself  be  judged. 

2.  Our  text  speaks  of  external  religion.  "Keep 
his  commandments."  There  are  commandments 
that  have  respect  to  God.  That  we  cultivate  a 
spirit  of  piety  in  all  our  habits  of  thinking,  com- 
muning with  God  in  our  hearts,  and  in  all  our  con- 
versation, never  allowing  a  profane  word  to  pollute 
our  lips,  speaking  always  with  reverence  of  every 
thing  sacred. 

Nothing  is  more  destructive  of  all  veneration 
and  reverence  than  the  shocking  and  disgusting 
habit  of  profane  swearing.  "  Let  no  corrupt  com- 
munication proceed  out  of  your  mouth."  God  has 
also  said,  "  Remember  the  Sabbath  day  to  keep  it 
holy,"  and  prohibited  the  pursuits  of  pleasure  or 
wealth.  "In  it  thou  shalt  do  no  work."  It  is 
God's  time,  and  terrible  have  been  the  results  of 


268  PRISON   REMINISCENCES. 

Sabbath  breaking  in  all  ages.  Many  of  you  will 
call  to  mind  that  here  commenced  the  course  that 
led  to  this  place.  The  sound  of  the  church-going 
bell  called  you  to  God's  house.  You  lingered. 
Its  last  tone  died  away  on  your  ear,  and  you  were 
standing  with  those  young  men  at  the  corner  of  the 
streets.  The  happy  and  pure  hearts  had  entered 
the  sanctuary,  and  you  were  left  with  the  unprin- 
cipled. 

Your  better  feelings  at  the  first  revolted  at  your 
choice  of  companions.  Tender  recollections  of 
home  and  friends  came  over  you,  pleading  with 
you  to  avoid  the  evil  and  to  choose  the  good. 
You  hesitated,  but  urged  by  those  fine  young  men 
in  so  friendly  a  manner  just  to  "  take  a  walk," 
you  yielded.  Again  and  again  you  were  shocked 
at  the  recklessness  of  your  companions,  and  often 
resolved  that  that  day  should  close  up  your  acquaint- 
ance. But  another  Sabbath  came,  and  with  it  the 
tempter  and  the  temptation,  and  at  the  close  of 
another  desecrated  Sabbath  you  felt  less  compunc- 
tion than  at  the  first.  You  had  joined  more  fully 
in  profane  conversation,  and  taken  a  more  active 
part  in  iniquity,  and  felt  a  relish  for  sin  you  had 
not  felt  before. 

Your  scruples  were  giving  way,  your  repugnance 


FAREWELL  SEEMON.  269 

for  vileness  weakening,  and  from  familiarity  with 
sin  you  became  a  ruined  young  man. 

"  Vice  is  a  monster  of  such  frightful  mein, 
As  to  be  hated  needs  but  to  be  seen  ; 
But  seen  too  oft,  familiar  with  its  face, 
We  first  endure,  then  pity,  then  embrace." 

This,  in  substance,  has  been  the  history  of  many 
a  young  man  I  now  address.  Had  you  yielded  to 
the  dictates  of  your  better  judgment,  how  differ- 
ent would  have  been  the  result.  This  hour  you 
would  have  been  with  that  family  circle  busily  pre- 
paring for  the  house  of  God,  and  now  walking  in 
company  to  the  consecrated  place.  The  eye  of  that 
mother  would  be  turned  to  your  guiltless  counte- 
nance with  all  of  a  mother's  love  and  hope.  That 
father  with  honest  pride  would  think  of  you  as 
worthy  to  bear  the  family  name,  and  as  sure  to 
transmit  its  good  character  and  possessions  to 
another  generation. 

And  you  of  more  advanced  years  would  have 
been  leading  forth  your  prattling  happy  children, 
and  your  beloved  wife  going  up  to  God's  sanctuary 
to  seek  his  blessing.  I  know  these  thoughts  are 
painful,  and  we  only  indulge  them  to  fix  more 
deeply  in  your  minds  this  important  truth  that 
God's  command,  "  remember  the  Sabbath  day,"  must 
23* 


270  PRISON  REMINISCENCES. 

not  be  trifled  with.  0,  as  you  hope  for  any  per- 
manent good  in  yourselves,  from  this  place  keep 
that  day  holy. 

I  do  not  recollect  of  an  instance  in  which  a 
man  discharged  from  this  prison  has  become  a  reg- 
ular attendant  on  public  worship,  but  such  an  one 
has  done  well.  All  who  have  been  returned,  and 
all  who  have  done  badly,  are  of  those  who  seldom 
or  never  have  kept  the  Sabbath.  There  are  com- 
mandments that  regard  yourself  principally.  Not 
one  of  you  should  forget  that  you  belong  to  God. 
He  has  given  you  charge  of  a  human  body.  You 
are  to  regard  its  health  and  vigor.  God  will  re- 
quire it  at  your  hands.  You  have  no  right  by 
gluttony,  or  intemperance,  or  licentiousness,  to 
break  down  that  tabernacle  so  "  fearfully  and  won- 
derfully made."  Sad  and  sickening  has  been  the 
experience  of  many  I  now  address.  From  the 
occasional  dram,  to  the  more  frequent  draught ;  from 
the  moderate,  to  the  immoderate  use  of  strong 
drink;  from  the  respectable  hotel  bar,  to  the  low 
groggery  bar ;  and  thence  to  the  bar  of  justice. 

How  little  you  dreamed  that  this  was  the  natural 
course  of  events;  and  when  some  kind  friend  inti- 
mated to  you  that  you  might  yet  become  intemper- 
ate, you  knew  not  whether  to  laugh  at  what  you 
deemed  his  groundless  fears,  or  to  resent  what  you 


FAREWELL   SERMON.  271 

thought  an  insult.  But  the  fears  of  your  friends 
were  prophetic,  and  to  you  the  matter  is  one  of 
painful  and  disgusting  experience.  I  will  not  hold 
the  sad  story  up  to  you.  Memory  often  performs 
that  office  ;  hence  those  tears,  hence  the  groans  and 
sighs  that  often  break  the  stillness  of  the  night, 
and  arrest  the  ear  of  the  vigilant  watchman  as  he 
slowly  treads  his  accustomed  rounds. 

As  it  wa's  remarked  of  Sabbath  breaking,  so  of 
drinking.  Few  that  wholly  refrain,  but  do  well 
on  going  out ;  few  that  drink  at  all,  do  well.  My 
hope  of  the  virtue  and  integrity  of  a  discharged 
convict  dies  at  once,  when  I  know  he  has  taken 
but  a  single  dram,  and  especially  if  he  had  formerly 
been  intemperate.  There  is  but  one  rule  for  such, 
viz. :  "  Touch  not,  taste  not,  handle  not." 

Equally  destl-uctive  of  health,  and  life,  and 
morals,  is  the  sin  of  licentiousness.  How  clearly 
and  terribly  do  the»sacred  writers  speak  of  this 
vice.  "  For  her  house  inclincth  unto  death,  and  her 
paths  to  the  dead."  None  that  go  unto  her  return 
again,  neither  take  they  hold  upon  the  paths  of  life. 
Terrible  sayings.  The  thoughtless  man  may  be 
slow  to  believe  them,  "  but  the  end  is  bitter  as 
wormwood,  sharp  as  a  two  edged  sword."  "Re- 
move thy  way  from  her,  and  come  not  nigh  the 


272  PRISON   EEMINISCENCES. 

door  of  her  house,  lest  thou  mourn  at  the  last 
when  the  flesh  and  the  body  are  consumed. 

"  Can  a  man  take  fire  in  his  bosom  and  his  clothes 
not  be  burned ;  can  one  go  on  hot  coals  and  his 
feet  not  be  burned."  "  He  goeth  after  her  as  an 
ox  goeth  to  the  slaughter,  or  till  a  dart  strike 
through  his  liver,  and  knoweth  not  it  is  for  his  life." 
"Her  house  is  where  ?  On  what  street  or  road  is 
it  ?  It  is  in  the  way  to  hell,  going  down  to  the 
chambers  of  death."  Now  remember  that  every 
step  you  take  towards  her  detestable  dwelling  is 
a  step  towards  death  and  hell,  and  few. that  go 
thus  far  towards  such  an  end  ever  return. 

There  arc  duties  you  owe  yourselves  as  intel- 
lectual beings.  God  never  intended  your  mind 
should  be  like  a  barren  and  uncultivated  field.  He 
has  made  it  your  duty  to  develop  «,nd  train  its  fac- 
ulties, to  avail  yourselves  of  all  the  means  within 
your  reach  to  get  wisdom  #nd  understanding,  to 
store  your  minds  richly  with  all  knowledge,  and  to 
accustom  yourselves  to  patient  and  serious  thought 
and  reflection.  Do  not  conclude  because  the  morn- 
ing of  your  life  has  been  unpropitious,  or  perhaps 
wickedly  unimproved,  that,  therefore,  that  there  is 
no  hope  for  you : 

"  For  knowledge  to  your  eyes  her  ample  page, 
Rich  with  the  spoils  of  time  doth  still  unroll." 


FAREWELL    SERMON.  273 

You  may,  you  should  yet  make  great  and  suc- 
cessful efforts  to  be  a  man,  an  intelligent  man. 
God  demands  it.  You  will  otherwise  be  faithless 
to  yourself  as  well  as  to  God.  Again,  there  are 
duties  you  owe  yourselves  as  religious  beings.  0, 
man,  thou  hast 

"  A  never  dying  soul  to  save, 
And  fit  it  for  the  sky." 

Thou  art  a  lost  spirit,  "  an  alien  from  the  Com- 
monwealth of  Israel."  Thy  principal  business  is 
to  come  back  to  God.  To  regain  the  divine  image, 
to  secure  a  title  to  an  inheritance  in  heaven,  and 
by  "  a  patient  continuance  in  well  doing,"  hold  thy- 
self in  readiness  for  a  summons  to  <:His  presence 
where  is  fullness  of  joy,  and  to  his  right  hand 
where  are  pleasures  forevermorc." 

There  are  duties  you  owe  to  others.  —  It  is  but 
little  you  can  do  at  present  to  meet  those  obliga- 
tions, except  in  way  of  preparation  for  your  anti- 
cipated liberty. 

And  when  that  day  comes,  ere  you  leave  your 
cell,  kneel  down  and  earnestly  pray  God  to  aid  you 
in  your  social  duties.  You  who  have  a  father  or 
a  mother,  go  and  let  that  old  withered  hand  grasp 
yours ;  go  and  see  how  age  and  grief,  a  grief  for 
you,  has  bowed  down  and  enfeebled  those  faithful 


274  PRISON   KEMINISCENCES. 

ones,  go  and  seek  forgiveness  and  the  parental 
blessing.  If  you  love  them  go  quickly,  lest 

"  Death  have  swifter  wings  than  love." 

And  you  whose  companion  has  suffered  a  thousand 
deaths  on  your  account,  0,  hasten  to  greet  that 
faithful  one.  You  will  see  her  more  pale  and  feeble 
than  when  you  saw  her  last.  Gray  hairs-  are  more 
thickly  interspersed.  The  rose  no  longer  blooms 
on  that  cheek;  it  has  left  forever.  Sorrow  has  im- 
printed its  deep  lines  upon  that  countenance.  Now 
you  will  spare  no  effort  to  comfort  her  who  for  all 
these  long  years  has  retained  her  love  for  you.  0, 
let  every  hour  in  which  God  may  permit  you  the 
privilege,  be  devoted  to  her  happiness  ;  otherwise, 
dreadful  will  be  your  account. 

To  your  children  be  a  good  father ;  those  little 
ones  have  often  thought  of  you.  When  their  little 
playmates  have  gone  out  to  meet  their  father  com- 
ing from  his  daily  toil,  they  have  thought  of  you ; 
and  when  their  lone  mother  wept,  they  thought  of 
you.  Let  them  find  in  you  a  true  father,  kind, 
faithful,  diligent.  Go  up  with  that  family  to  God's 
house,  and  worship  in  his  temple.  Gather  them 
around  the  family  altar,  and  teach  them  the  knowl- 
edge and  the  fear  of  God.  And  as  you  mingle 
once  more  with  community  use  all  proper  efforts  to 


FAREWELL   SERMON.  275 

regain  your  position  in  the  world.  You  will  find  no 
doubt,  that  man  will  stand  in  doubt  of  you.  Good 
and  judicious  men,  while  they  wo,uld  by  no  means 
unnecessarily  wound  your  feelings,  or  entertain 
unreasonable  suspicions,  Will,  nevertheless,  give 
you  their  confidence  gradually,  and  as  they  see  it 
deserved?  Nor  should  you  regret  this.  It  is  the 
only  confidence  that  will  be  enduring.  That  which 
is  hastily  and  without  reason  given,  may  be  as 
hastily  and  unreasonably  withdrawn.  But  when 
by  a  "  faithful  continuance  in  well-doing,"  you  gain 
the  confidence  of  community,  then  so  long  as  you 
hold  on  your  course  you  can  rely  on  that  confi- 
dence. 

And  do  not  trouble  yourself  much  if  you  find  at 
first  your  former  friends  rather  cool  and  distant. 
You  can  if  you  will  regain  what  you  have  lost  in 
this  respect.  Only  be  patient,  meek  and  faithful, 
and  especially  of  all  men  it  most  behooves  you  to 
entertain  the  most  scrupulous  regard  for  the  law 
of  the  land.  Show  your  desire  to  be  a  good 
citizen  by  obeying  all  the  laws  under  which  you 
live,  even  those  less  important  than  some  others, 
or  those  frequently  violated  by  many  who  claim 
to  be  good  citizens.  Regard  all  these ;  ever  culti- 
vate a  habit  of  obeying  every  ordinance  of  the 
constituted  authorities.  A  violation  of  some  un- 


276  PRISON   REMINISCENCES. 

important  law  might,  perhaps,  save  you  some  little 
labor  at  some  time,  but  the  well  formed  habit  of 
always  doing  right,  will  a  thousand  fold  remuner- 
ate. 

Some  of  you  have  no  parent,  or  companion,  or 
home  to  which  to  resort  when  you  shall  be  free. 
Cast  yourself  on  your  Heavenly  Father,  and  go 
forth  confident  of  success  through  his  good  Provi- 
dence. Seek  a  home  and  employment  with  the 
virtuous;  shun  as  you  would  death  itself  vile 
company.  By  no  means,  and  for  no  consideration 
whatever,  associate  with  such.  Though  your  wages 
are  small,  better  labor  for  a  bare  subsistence,  with 
a  good  employer  and  good  associates,  than  hazard 
your  integrity  by  engaging  in  the  employ  of  a  bad 
man,  or  with  vile  associates. 

And  better  a  thousand  times  that  you  should 
have  no  intimates  than  that  you  should  select  bad 
ones.  Good  friends  will  be  found;  be  not  fearful. 
It  will  be  better  for  you  for  a  time  not  to  rush 
into  company.  Be  a  serious,  thoughtful  man ;  com- 
mune with  your  own  heart  and  with  your  God, 
and  all  matters  pertaining  to  social  life  will  in 
Providence  be  well  arranged. 

Having  thus  summed  up  the  duties  you  owe  to 
God,  to  yourselves,  and  your  fellow  men,  I  now 
come  to  our  second  general  division,  viz  : 


FAREWELL   SERMON.  277 

The  argument  to  enforce  obedience. — "  For  God 
will  bring  every  work  into  judgment,  with  every 
secret  thought,  whether  it  be  good  or  whether  it 
be  evil." 

The  doctrine  here  taught  is  this,  that  God  takes 
account  of  every  man's  life,  and  will  bring  him  to 
hear  the  rendering.  The  doctrine  of  a  future  re- 
tribution has  been  the  doctrine  of  believers  in 
revelation  in  all  ages,  with  few  exceptions ;  and  is 
in  fact  recognized  in  all  religions,  Pagan,  Jewish, 
Mohammedan,  or  Christian.  God's  justice  is  con- 
cerned to  bring  man  to  an  account  at  some  time 
and  in  some  way,  to  reward  or  punish  him  accord- 
ing to  his  deservings.  But  this  is  not  done  in  the 
present  life.  Therefore  we  are  to  look  for  it 
hereafter.  Attempts  have  been  made  to  prove 
that  men  are  punished  according  to  their  deservings 
in  this  life ;  but  I  think  few,  very  few,  are  fully 
convinced  of  this.  The  truth  that  this  life  is  not 
fully,  at  least,  a  retributive  state,  is  clear.  The 
numberless  cases  in  which  men  are  not  and  cannot 
be  punished  in  this  state  of  being,  and  especially 
the  consideration  that  we  are  responsible  for  the 
results  of  our  wickedness  after  we  are  dead,  are, 
to  most,  conclusive  proofs  that  we  are  to  be  judged 
in  another  state. 

But  the  word  of  the  Lord  settles  the  question. 
24 


278  PRISON   REMINISCENCES. 

Mark  the  passages  that  refer  to  this  matter  and 
you  find  that 

1.  They  always  speak  of  the  judgment  as  a  fu- 
ture event.     "For  God  shall  (not  does)  bring  into 
judgment."      "For  we  must  (not  do)   all  appear 
before  the  judgment  seat  of  Christ. 

2.  They  fix  the  event  at  a  definite  day.     It  is  a 
day.     "  The  day  of  judgment."     "  The  great  day." 
And  Paul  at  Athens  declares,   "  He  hath   appoint- 
ed a  day  in  the  which   he  will  judge  the  world  in 
righteousness." 

3.  They  describe  the  judgment  of  those  who  had 
long  been  dead  as  still  future.    "  I  say  unto  you  it 
shall  be  more  tolerable  for  Sodom  and  Gomorrah 
in  the  day  of  judgment  than  for   thee" — (the  in- 
habitants of   Chorazin  and  Bethsaida.)      Showing 
that  the  people  then  addressed  would  stand  at  the 
same  tribunal  and  on  the  same  day  with  men  who 
had  slumbered  in  death  a  thousand  years  before. 

4.  It  is  after  death.     "  It  is  appointed  unto  man 
once  to  die,  and  after  that  the  judgment.     And  he 
shall  at  the  same  time  judge  the  quick  (those  found 
alive  at  the  time  of  his  coming,)  and  the  dead." 

5.  It  is  at  his  second  coming,  "When  the  Son  of 
man  shall  come  in  all  his  glory,  and  all  the   holy 
angels  with  him.     Then  shall  he  sit  upon  the  throne 
of  his  srlorv;  and  before  him  shall  be  srathered  all 

CJ  v      i  i^_, 


FAREWELL   SERMON.  279 

nations."  Then  follows  a  description  of  that 
eventful  occasion.  The  declaration  of  the  char- 
acter ;  the  fixing  the  destiny ;  the  final  separation, 
and  the  endless  doom. 

6.  It  is  at  the  end  of  the  world.  "  I  saw  a  great 
white  throne,  and  him  who  sat  on  it.  And  I  saw 
the  dead,  small  and  great,  stand  before  God.  And 
the  books  were  opened ;  and  the  dead  were  judged 
out  of  the  things  found  written  therein.  And  the  sea 
gave  up  the  dead  which  were  in  it ;  and  death  and 
hell  delivered  up  the  dead  which  were  in  them ; 
and  they  were  judged,  every  man  according  to  their 
works.  And  whosoever  was  not  found  written  in 
the  book  of  life,  was  cast  into  the  lake  of  fire. 
This  is  the  second  death."  Such  is  the  testimony 
of  God's  word.  No  doctrine  is  more  clearly  taught  ; 
for  God  would  have  every  man  know  that  for  all 
these  things  he  will  bring  them  into  judgment. 

How  solemn  a  conclusion.  Here  is  a  subject  of 
infinite  importance  to  us  all.  Is  it  so  ? 

"  And  must  I  be  to  judgment  brought, 

And  answer  in  that  day, 
For  every  vain  and  idle  thought, 
And  every  word  I  say  ? 

"  Yes,  every  secret  of  my  heart 

Shall  shortly  be  made  known ; 
And  I  receive  my  just  desert 
For  all  that  I  have  done." 


280  PRISON  REMINISCENCES. 

And  you,  more  than  others,  can  entertain  some 
just  conception  of  standing  at  a  judgment  seat, 
where  matters  of  great  personal  interest  are  pend- 
ing. Others  have  been  there  only  as  spectators, 
and  listened  with  no  other  feelings  than  curiosity, 
or  at  most  of  sympathy.  It  was  far  otherwise 
with  you.  Events  you  can  never  forget,  had 
brought  you  there ;  and  in  every  one  of  the  trans- 
actions of  the  day,  you  felt  an  awful  interest. 
And  how  deeply  impressed  on  your  memory  are 
all  those  transactions.  The  countenance  of  the 
judge,  and  of  the  jurors ;  the  appearance  of  the 
crowd  assembled,  the  reading  of  the  indictment, 
the  opening  remarks  of  the  prosecuting  attorney, 
and  the  witnesses.  0,  how  you  scanned  every 
sentence ;  and  how  your  hope  rose  or  fell  accord- 
ing to  the  strength  of  evidence  elicited.  And  how 
you  listened  to  the  pleadings,  and  especially  the 
charge  to  the  jury.  They  retire,  and  in  awful 
suspense  you  wait.  How  slowly  those  two  or 
three  hours  passed.  They  seemed  as  so  many 
days.  At  length  you  sit  once  more  in  the  seat  of 
crime.  There  they  are,  those  twelve  men  who 
hold  your  destiny  in  their  hand.  How  painful  the 
silence  of  that  moment  you  now  well  remember ; 
but  that  silence  is  broken ;  the  dread  question  is 
asked :  and  that  word,  how  it  fell  upon  your  ear, 


FAREWELL   SERMON.  281 

and  crushed  your  heart — Guilty.  Oh,  that  word, 
so  terribly  significant.  But  why  do  I  speak  of 
these  things  ?  Not  to  distress  you  wantonly.  0, 
no  j  but  if  possible,  to  deepen  in  your  minds  a 
sense  of  the  importance  of  that  day  when 

"  The  judge  descending,  thunders  from  afar, 
And  all  mankind  are  summoned  to  his  bar." 

And  while,  in  many  respects,  the  past  presents 
similarities  to  the  coming  judgment,  in  others,  and 
very  important  respects,  they  differ. 

If,  on  your  trial  at  the  bar  of  your  country,  you 
were  the  victims  of  perjury,  or  by  the  concurrence 
of  unfortunate  circumstances,  your  jurors  misjudged, 
or  moved  by  prejudice,  condemned  an  innocent 
man,  no  such  wrong  judgment  will  overtake  you 
there.  See  then 

"  The  volume  opened ;  opened  every  heart, 
A  sunbeam  pointing  out  each  secret  thought." 

The  just  man  hath  nothing  to  fear,  therefore ;  nor 
has  the  guilty  anything  to  hope.  No  lack  of  evi- 
dence, no  imperfection  in  the  law,  no  error  in  the 
proceeding.  The  books  shall  be  opened,  and  the 
dead  judged  out  of  the  things  found  written  therein. 
"  The  books,"  the  record  of  our  lives,  the  pages  of 
which  are  now  filling  up.  That  book  "  of  leaves 
24* 


282  PRISON   REMINISCENCES. 

more  durable  than  those  of  brass,"  on  the  pages 
of  which  the  recording  angel  is  now  writing  it, 
shall  be  opened.  Nor  can  justice  be  deceived,  or 
bribed ;  we  shall  receive,  every  one  "  according  to 
the  deeds  done  in  the  body."  In  the  sentence 
which  consigned  you  to  this  place,  there  was  a 
limit.  At  farthest,  it  must  end  at  death ;  and  hope, 
that  in  this  life  "  springs  eternal  in  the  human 
breast,"  suggested  thoughts  of  pardon,  or  escape, 
or  liberation  by  some  means.  But  not  so  the  sin- 
ner doomed  by  the  great  judge.  He  is  "to  go 
away  into  everlasting  punishment,"  through  that 
gate  on  which  is  written 

"  Who  enters  here  must  bid  all  hope  farewell." 

0,  man,  think  of  this,  and  learn  to  dread  the  judg- 
ment of  -the  great  day  as  an  unpardoned  sinner. 
The  constant  recollection  of  this,  is  proposed  by 
the  wise  man  as  a  preventive  of  evil-doing,  and  an 
incentive  to  good.  We  are  to  have  it  always  in 
mind,  and  think,  and  speak,  and  act,  with  reference 
thereto.  This  will  keep  back  our  hand  from  doing 
wrong  in  the  day  of  temptation  —  the  thought, 
the  judge  is  at  the  door ;  and  this  will  regulate 
our  worldly  desires  and  pursuits. 

"  Great  day  of  dread  decision  and  despair, 
At  thought  of  thee  each  sublunary  wish, 
Lets  go  its  eager  grasp,  drops  the  poor  world, 
And  catches  at  each  reed  of  hope  in  heaven." 


FAREWELL   SERMON.  283 


CONCLUSION. 

THIS  day  closes  my  ministry  of  nine  years  in  * 
this  place.  They  have  been  years  of  much  physi- 
cal suffering  to  me,  such  as  few  can  conceive  of, 
though  I  have  generally  attended  to  the  duties  of 
my  ministry.  I  have  endeavored  to  bear  in  mind 
that  my  congregation  were  occupying  a  point  in 
life  which  would,  in  all  probability,  determine  their 
future  course,  and  endless  destiny;  and  as  many 
of  my  sermons  were  to  be  the  last  to  some  one,  I 
have  felt  that  each  should  be  selected  and  preached 
for  present  results.  I  have  found  no  time  for 
speculative  preaching,  or  for  discussing  subjects 
foreign  to  the  soul's  salvation.  I  shall  look  back 
with  some  degree  of  pleasure  to  those  years,  while 
I  life.  The .  uniform  respect  you  have  shown  me, 
surpassed  by  no  congregation  to  which  I  have  ever 
preached,  the  eagerness  with  which  you  have  lis- 
tened to  my  words,  the  earnestness  which  you  have 
manifested  to  understand  "  the  way  to  the  Lord," 
and  the  evident  improvement  of  nearly  all,  in 
knowledge,  and  of  many,  I  trust,  in  goodness,  have 
made  these  years  of  -great  interest  to  me,  and  I 
can  never  forget  them.  The  pleasure  I  feel  in  this 
review  is,  however,  mingled  with  regret  that  I  have 


284  PRISON   REMINISCENCES. 

done  no  more,  and  in  no  better  spirit  of  devoted- 
ness.  May  I  "  find  mercy  of  the  Lord  in  that  day." 

And  I  am  sad  too,  when  I  think  how  many  to 
whom  I  have  preached  Jesus,  are  still  strangers  to 
him.  Years  of  loneliness,  wearisome,  dark,  dismal 
years  have  been  suffered ;  containing  more  of  hu- 
man misery  than  any  but  the  experienced  can  con- 
ceive of.  Privations  and  separations,  of  the  most 
painful  character,  have  been  endured  in  vain.  It 
is  a  melancholy  thought,  that  justice  and  mercy 
have  combined  to  save  such,  and  in  vain.  The 
laborer  cultivates  his  fields  with  care,  watches 
over  the  springing  blade  and  the  unripe  fruit,  with 
unsparing  vigilance,  and  looks  with  joyous  exulta- 
tion to  the  rich  harvest  which  shall  repay  his  toil 
and  care.  But  in  one  fatal  night  all  his  hopes 
perish.  The  untimely  frosts  have  withered  his 
fair  fields ;  and  they  are  now  a  wide,  desolation. 
Yet  in  this  case,  sad  as  it  is,  there  is  the  allevi- 
ating consideration  that  the  destruction  came  to 
the  owner,  not  by  any  fault  of  his.  He  can  bow 
in  submission  to  an  inevitable  providence,  the  wis- 
dom of  which  he  cannot  question ;  and  trust  that 
he  who  has  destroyed,  and  who  is  the  proprietor 
of  the  silver  and  gold,  and  the  cattle  on  a  thousand 
hills,  can  and  will  provide. 

But  how  much  more  to  be  deplored,  when  all 


FAREWELL   SERMON.  285 

you  suffer  here,  and  all  the  care  and  culture  be- 
stowed to  bring  a  harvest  unto  eternal  life,  fails. 
"No  fruits  of  holiness  on  your  dead  souls  are 
found,"  and  the  fault  is  yours.  God  asks  "  what 
could  I  do  that  I  have  not  done  ?  "  All  his  treasures 
of  wisdom  and  knowledge  have  been  exhausted, 
but  judgments  have  not  moved.  Mercy  has  not 
triumphed.  The  reason  he  announces:  "Ye 
will  not  come  unto  me  that  ye  might  have  life." 

I  trust,  however,  that  many  to  whom  I  have  min- 
istered, have  made  good  improvement;  that  the 
seed  has  not  always  fallen  on  stony  places,  but 
that  it  has  produced  its  thirty,  sixty,  and  an  hun- 
dred fold.  Often  am  I  greeted  with  demonstra- 
tions of  strong  affection,  by  men  whom  I  meet  in 
my  occasional  wanderings.  Men  who  had  once 
belonged  to  this  congregation;  and  who  became 
virtuous,  perhaps  pious,  while  here.  Often  do  I 
hear  by  letter,  and  otherwise,  of  the  exemplary 
lives  of  men  who  have  gone  from  us  in  past  years. 

They  are  now  virtuous,  peaceable,  valuable  citi- 
zens, and  blessings  to  their  families  and  friends, 
and  are  quietly  pursuing  the  path  that  leadeth  unto 
life.  Such  intelligence  is  always  to  me,  of  the  most 
encouraging  character.  And  I  am  confident  that 
there  are  men  here  whose  hearts  are  honest,  whose 
professions  are  sincere,  who  have  exercised  "  re- 


286  PRISON   REMINISCENCES. 

pentance  unto  life,  and  faith  in  our  Lord  Jesus 
Christ,"  and  will  give  us  joy  hereafter,  by  honor- 
ing their  profession. 

And  here  our  minds  naturally  revert  from  the 
living  to  the  dead.  Death,  who  with  impartiality 
visits  the  palace  and  the  prison,  has  not  passed  us 
by.  He  has  reaped  a  harvest  from  among  the  rich 
and  renowned  of  our  land.  Many  a  proud  one  has 
been  brought  low;  many  a  pillar  of  community 
thrown  down ;  many  a  cedar  of  Lebanon  prostrat- 
ed. And  yet  he  has  not  forgotten  us,  for  he  over- 
looketh  not  the  lowly.  Twenty-six  visits  has  he 
made  to  this  prison.  Twenty-six  men  have  passed 
the  dark  vale  of  death  from  these  apartments,  and 
as  many  immortal  spirits  have  returned  to  God 
who  gave  them  being.  A  very  few  have  found  bu- 
rial among  friends  elsewhere,  but  nearly  all  are 
slumbering  in  the  Prison  Yard  in  our  City  Ceme- 
tery. In  company  with  your  present  Deputy  *  I 
have  followed  each  of  them  to  the  grave.  No  rela- 
tive in  a  single  instance  gathered  around  the  coffin 
or  followed  the  dead  to  his  last  resting  place,  or 
sorrowed  when  we  returned  "  earth  to  earth,  ashes 
to  ashes,  dust  to  dust." 

*  Mr.  John  Foss,  who  ha.d  been  connected  with  the  prison  nino 
years;  a  man  of  great  kindness  and  sympathy,  whose  care  for  the  sick 
and  afflicted  is  deserving  honorable  notice. 


FAKE  WELL   SERMON.  287 

But  there  was  always  one  *  sitting  at  the  win- 
dow of  my  now  lonely  cottage,  pale,  feeble,  ema- 
ciated, looking  out  with  tears,  on  the  sad  proces- 
sion. A  new  made  grave  near  by  the  Prisoner's 
Lot,  contains  the  mortal  remains  of  that  true  friend 
of  suffering  humanity.  Her  sympathetic  heart 
there  moulders  back  to  dust,  and  the  blow  that  fell 
upon  my  heart  so  heavily,  smote  down  one  whose 
tears  had  often  mingled  with  those  of  your  rela- 
tives, and  whose  prayers  often  ascended  to  heaven 
on  your  behalf. 

I  now  commend  you  to  God  and  to  the  word  of 
his  grace.  Rememember  this,  that  in  all  your  life's 
vicissitudes,  there  lives  one  above  you  who  loves 
you;  and  until  lam  laid  away  where  the  weary  are 
at  rest,  will  you  remember  that  somewhere  on  earth 
there  is  one  poor  heart  that  loves  you,  and  one 
whose  prayer  shall  daily  be,  offered  to  God  that 
you  may  be  "  guided  by  his  counsel  and  afterward 
be  received  to  his  glory." 

*  Laura  W.  Smith,  wife  of  Rev.  Eleazer  Smith,  who  died  May  30th, 
1855.  Her  life  of  extreme  suffering  closed  in  great  peace  and  cloudless 
hope. 

"  Dews  fell  not  more  gently  to  the  ground  at  night, 
Nor  weary  worn  out  winds  expire  so  soft." 


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